


Better Angels

by dezolis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Party Member Ravus, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 82,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dezolis/pseuds/dezolis
Summary: Gladio and Prompto take a little longer to reach the Altar of the Tidemother - long enough for Ignis to make an offer, long enough for Ravus to accept, and long enough for some fates to change.





	1. Let's Make a Deal

This didn’t feel like a victory. 

It should have in a way. Noctis was safe. Leviathan had given him her blessing. Ardyn was retreating, a pithy comment about being moved by such a grand display of devotion serving as the only explanation Ignis was ever going to get as to why considering the power of the Ring of the Lucii had already faded and the bloody chancellor was still standing. The same couldn’t be said of the MTs Ardyn brought with him. They decorated the Altar of the Tidemother in pieces, torn asunder by Ignis’s knives and rage and borrowed magic. The destruction was impressive, but as the Ring took its final dues and agony forced Ignis to the flat of his back on the ground, he realized it didn’t feel like a victory because in many other ways, it was not.

There was the aforementioned bloody chancellor and the still standing. Gone for now simply meant he’d be back later and the gods only knew what sort of affable cruelty he’d offer upon his return.

There had been the sight of Lady Lunafreya lying at the Altar’s end. She had died smiling, despite her injury, despite the chaos roiling all around. Ignis wondered if seeing Noctis alone had been enough to have given her the hope she had apparently left this world with. He wondered if, without an Oracle, the rest of the world would be able to share that same feeling.

There was Ravus, knocked back by...whatever the hell that magic was that Ardyn had used. Ignis had lost track of him during the fight with Ardyn and didn’t know whether the man was alive or dead. Given the grief he had felt upon finding his sister’s body, Ignis didn’t know which state Ravus would have prefered either.

There was the pain burning throughout him. He could feel the scars forming on his skin, the flesh seared away in rivulets . He had to force himself to breathe through clenched teeth, a task that grew more difficult as he realized the darkening of his vision wasn’t from wincing. His eyes were wide open yet the blue sky was falling into black as spots of orange flared and died before him.

And then there was the voice of a god echoing in his head, telling him all the victories they ever could win would lead to one and only one conclusion. Noctis would die.

Could fate really be this cruel? Noctis had already lost his father, his home, and his fiancee in such a short span of days. He’d endured the trials of the Astrals and proven himself worthy of their aid. Yet more must be sacrificed. He was worthy of nothing more than dying at the annointed hour for a duty thrust upon him to stop something started thousands of years before he was born.

Heavy footsteps sounded against the stone of the altar. It must have been Ravus, alive after all, coming towards him but even if Ignis could have turned his head, darkness would have been all he could see. Everything else had burned away.

He couldn’t panic. Not him, not now. Ignis focused on his breathing again, trying to keep it deep and steady. The fire that had roared through his body was subsiding. The Ring apparently was content with taking his vision over his life. A good bargain, a better one than most not of Lucian royal blood had ever gotten. He should have been grateful. He should have been relieved.

Ignis wanted to scream.

He listened instead to Ravus chastising him at first for his recklessness then complimenting him on his resilience. Both were actually high praise considering the source. Then Ignis felt a weight shift away from him, heard the rustle of Ravus’s heavy leather coat; Ravus was leaving. There wasn’t anything here for him anymore. 

Gladio and Prompto should have arrived by now. They’d been a few streets away when Ignis had last spoken to them. But navigating Altissia had been tricky and time consuming when the city hadn’t been a ruin of water and wreckage. How long would it take for them to find him and Noctis when it was? As strong as was he trying to be, Ignis knew he couldn’t take waiting in this new darkness with Noctis unconscious and unprotected. He knew what would happen if someone other than help appeared.

“Wait.” It came out as a whimper. _So be it. I’ll beg if I have to_. “Stay. Please. My eyes...I can’t see...The Ring took my sight. Gladio, Prompto...they’re coming...but I can’t...I can’t…” _I can’t do anything_ was what he should have said.

Ignis heard nothing but the waves and his own breathing. Then, finally, he felt leather brush against his hand and a presence settled over him. He looked over out of habit, expecting as he did it to see nothing in return, yet he swore he could make out a fall of white hair. He swore he could make out the faint colors of Ravus’s odd eyes. Then his vision reverted to blackness and he didn’t know if he conjured the image out of memory or if he really saw it.

“I owe you this much,” Ravus said. “Even if our endeavors did not-”

There was no need to voice their failure in saving Lady Lunafreya. Ignis felt it too. He wouldn’t do Ravus the insult of claiming he felt it nearly as keenly yet Ignis had set out to save her and Noctis both. True, it had been for Noct’s sake mostly and secondly, because she’d been the Oracle and Eos needed her healer. Ignis didn’t know much of her beyond the little he’d teased out of Noctis regarding their written exchanges and what he’d gleaned from television and radio broadcasts. She’d always come across as a compassionate, dutiful woman.

_And this is where it led her_ , Ignis thought. He didn’t want to think of where duty was leading Noctis. Leaving this altar alive was a step towards his death. Success would yield the ultimate loss and Ignis’s own duty was to ensure that Noctis reached that end however he could.

“It isn’t fair,” Ignis said. He didn’t mean to usurp Ravus’s grief for his sister for grief of his own for a friend that still lived. ‘It isn’t fair’ though, covered so many things.

“The gods only ask of us what they know we are capable of giving.” It was an old saying, meant to uplift those in suffering. Ravus delivered it with a sneer and Ignis found he couldn’t argue with the cynical take.

“The gods really are assholes, aren’t they?”

That earned a half laugh from Ravus, but he quickly went morose again. After a heavy silence, he began to tell Ignis something that caused the blinded man to both despair and hope. “I expected this outcome, perhaps not in the way it came to be, but I feared Lunafreya would never leave Altissia.”

“The covenants were killing her,” he continued. “The price of healing is the health of the healer. To speak to the gods extracts an even heavier toll. She was willing to pay it, no matter how much I begged her to reconsider.”

Ignis remembered the confrontation back at the Imperial base and how furious Ravus had been at Noctis, screaming at him for not understanding the cost of Ramuh’s blessing. Now Ignis thought he understood. “Your anger at Noctis...it wasn’t really about Regis but Lady Lunafreya?”

“A charitable interpretation. But no, I didn’t think Noctis worthy, certainly not of my sister’s life. But she believed. The King of Light. King of Kings. This feckless boy, this son of man who demanded aid but offered none of his own, would somehow ascend and save us all from the darkness.”

A coldness took hold of Ignis. The things Ravus was saying - they were not so unlike the words of the god in the vision Pryna gave him. _Of course, she was the Oracle’s messenger. The Oracle herself would have known._ It raised the question of how much the Oracle’s brother knew as well.

“King of Kings,” Ignis repeated softly. “She was following the prophecy, wasn’t she?”

“You know of it?” Ravus sounded surprised. “She spoke of his destiny often enough when Noctis was at the manor, but he never showed any greater understanding of what she was saying. For him, it was a fairytale. I wondered if he even remembered it to share it.”

A fairytale. Noct essentially killing himself to save the world was a nightmare, not a bedtime story. But Lady Lunafreya and Noctis had been children back then. She wouldn’t have told him of his death. She might have been too young herself to have known.

“What was she told?” Ignis demanded. “What was she to do? What was Noctis to do?”

Ravus sounded irritated by the interrogation but he explained what he could. “She was told she was to be the Oracle to guide the True King on his path as set out by the gods themselves. She was to commune with those self-same gods and convince them to lend their strength to the king. She accepted her role without complaint, without question. Why would she not? A glorious destiny indeed, if you omit her fate when her duty was done. She claimed it as her choice, even as the consequences became clear, but how can one who owes her power to the gods defy their commands? How can anyone make a true choice with two thousand years of duty in their blood?”

Ignis knew that Ravus’s bitterness was earned just as he knew he’d be asking all the same questions about Noctis in the days that were to come and likely with equal acrimony. There was one thing in particular that he needed to know now though. His voice shook with fear in hearing an answer that would only confirm what he had heard. “And where does the path of the True King end?”

“Ridding our star of its scourge. Restoring the light. As to how, I cannot say. I only know the Ring and the Crystal have their part.”

“No, I mean, what happens to the True King once he’s succeeded?” It came out as nearly a growl. Ravus had to know more about the prophecy. There had to be something that could done about it. There had to be some detail Ignis could find and use to thwart it.

His anger was noted. “What is it that you wish me to say?” Ravus asked, not unkindly. “I know only what Lunafreya shared with me but you speak as if you know something more. Something you do not wish to know.”

Ignis didn’t want to say it aloud. It was childish. He knew ancient, powerful beings had already decreed what was to pass millenia ago. Him repeating it wasn’t going to give it power any more than keeping silent would make it go away. Logically, he knew this. But even Ignis was not motivated solely by logic. He could have ended this conversation and waited silently for Gladio and Prompto and never have spoken a word of the prophecy again because who was he to challenge the gods? Who was he to darken however many days Noctis had left with the knowledge of his own doom?

Who was he? Noct’s friend and advisor, sworn to protect and guide him. And he was here with the one man on Eos who may have best understood the despair inherent in a bleak future that’s determined to come and who had literally fought the gods to stop it.

“Pryna...as she faded away…” The absurdity of ‘the dog gave me a vision’ almost made Ignis laugh despite the horror. He went on, stumbling through a recounting of the vision and he was reduced to stammering when he came to the sacrifice required of the True King.

“I think,” Ravus said after a long pause, “that you were far too kind to the gods with your earlier insult.”

Ignis did laugh at that. It was angry and hollow but better than crying. “You didn’t know? Lady Lunafreya didn’t know?”

“She never said, but I can’t imagine. She did not fear her own death, but I believe Noctis’s would have given her pause. She struggled as she did out of love and faith for him. For her quest to end as you claim, I cannot imagine her knowingly leading Noctis to the slaughter. Not without warning him. It was not within her to be so cruel.”

“Is it cruel to keep it from him?” Ignis asked. “Or crueler to tell him so he has to live knowing of the knife fate has put at his throat?” Ignis couldn’t say for himself if he would have wanted to have that knowledge. Knowing about Noctis was awful enough. _No_ , he thought, _it’s worse_.

Ravus though had no doubts. “I would wish to know. Whether it be so I can prepare myself to accept it or to prepare myself to fight it.”

It was an answer Ignis could respect. He was still unsure, at least with the part on telling Noctis. The part about preparing to fight against it, he wanted to believe in with the whole of his heart.

“Do you think it’s even possible to fight?”

“I did not hunt the gods for sport, Scientia. Without an Astral, there would be no covenant to forge and no sacrifice for my sister to make. A simplistic notion, and a failure in the end, but the desperate will cling to whatever purchase they may find.”

“I understand,” Ignis said and this time, he did, completely. If he was anything, it was desperate. He had no delusions of fighting the Astrals. As Ravus said, it had become a moot point anyway. Three covenants made, Shiva and Ifrit gone from this world, and Bahamut within the very crystal they sought to reclaim from Niflheim - there was no one to fight. In his current state, the most he could have hoped for was to amuse them with his blind flailings until they took pity. Maybe that was all he needed to hope for. A prophecy was a decree from the gods. Could a prophecy be broken merely by getting those gods to change their minds?

That was an even simpler notion than trying to kill them. But it was the only notion he had. In time, he might have come up with more. He just needed to learn more about the Astrals and about the prophecy. For two thousand years, the greatest source of knowledge of the Astrals had been the Oracle line. Granted their power by Bahamut, they’d been keepers of the faith and lore ever since. Countless pilgrims had flocked to Tenebrae to study in the library in Fenestala Manor or to seek audience with the Oracle and glean knowledge from her.

And currently, the last of that line was kneeling beside Ignis, amenable to questioning so far, very likely in need of a new job, and very much predisposed to defying the Astrals in any way he could. Ignis had made good use of this chance to get some information; he needed now to make sure he’d have more chances in the future.

“You were raised in the faith?” Ignis asked.

“And given ample reason to abandon it.”

“Yes, but you were taught all about the Astrals. You knew some of the prophecy. You might know something, anything that could subvert it. I know you’re no stranger to trying.”

“For Noctis’s sake?”

“For Lady Lunafreya’s sake. You know she would have wanted Noct to live.” Of course, not fifteen minutes earlier, Ravus had threatened to kill Noctis and had only been stayed by one of the hardest fights Ignis had ever fought. By the end, he, like Ignis, had been reduced to feeble shoving, a far cry from a man who had leapt across the battlefield to bring down a mech with a single stab from his sword.

His pride might not have liked it, but Ignis took a guess that there was a reason for that beyond his formidable fighting skills. “I saw you throw Gladio into the Regalia like he was a ragdoll, but I was able to parry your sword with a dagger? You could have thrown me clear off this altar instead of to the ground if you truly cared to. But you didn’t. In all your pain and anger, you held back. You held back because you knew what your sister wanted. You know how much she believed in him and how much she loved him.”

“You strike low, Scientia.”

“I strike strategically. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Ravus didn’t grant him the favor of admitting it. He once again went silent and Ignis was forced to listen to whatever subtle cues he could detect to determine how much further he could push him. It was maddening not being able to see the other man’s expression. So much could be found out in the downturn of the lips or the quirking of a brow to one who knew what to look for. And Ignis knew. He’d studied. He’d read everything he could find, then had moved onto reading every person he came across for practice. Gladio wouldn’t even play poker with him anymore, at least not for money. Ignis hadn’t actually needed the glasses. He’d gotten by well enough without them. But he’d wanted the extra bit of detail perfect vision gave him.

That was all gone now. He wanted to hope that the Ring’s theft of his sight might be temporary but he was too practical to really believe. Ignis had been so focused on the prophecy, it was only now dawning on him how deeply this was going to change things. He’d be a mess in combat, more likely to hinder Noctis than help him. Forget combat, he was going to have to relearn how to walk around without tripping or running into things. He would learn, as quickly as he could, because he had no other choice, but until he did, he discovered he had a use for Ravus beyond the prophecy. Two birds, one stone - Ignis did like being efficient.

Back to begging it was. “I need your help. Not just with knowledge of the Astrals to save Noctis but until I get myself sorted with this blindness, to keep him alive to be able fulfill the non-dying part of the bloody prophecy in the first place.”

“What are you proposing?” For that, Ignis didn’t need to see. Ravus was definitely scowling.

“Travel with us. Let me pick your brain about the Astrals. Let yourself honor your sister’s wishes.”

“I think the Ring took your sanity as well as your sight.”

“Where else are you going to go? Do you think the empire is keen on taking you back? You killed Ulldor. You destroyed countless MTs and mech to get here and threw a knife at Ardyn’s head to save Noct. I believe that’s called treason. I don’t believe Aldercapt will take kindly to it.”

“I care not for what that man thinks.”

“I’m sure that will make him extra pleased when he orders your capture. Or maybe he’ll skip straight to execution. Do you have any plans for what you’re going to do next? Go into hiding? Let yourself be caught?”

Ignis expected further angry dismissals. Ravus surprised him with a quiet confession. “Do you think I had any plans at all for a life beyond Lunafreya’s death?”

In an instant, Ignis thought of multiple retorts he could give to persuade Ravus to join them. He was clever like that. He was also too compassionate for it. Ignis let all the calculated responses die on the tip of his tongue because the truth was, if the circumstances were different, if it was a sleeping Lady Lunafreya and a dead Noctis they’d found upon arrival at the altar, he would be the one at a complete loss on how to go on. “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “I am striking too low. You lost your sister and I’m trying to use that to get you to do what I want. You don’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve that. I’m just...the thought of losing Noct...”

Again, Ravus defied Ignis’s expectations. A rebuke would have been earned but all he got was Ravus offering that he too understood.

Ignis had no trouble believing . Ravus’s own desperation had taken him to Niflheim and into whatever dark places he could find even the tiniest bit of hope. It had left him with nothing in the end, just as the prophecy threatened to leave Ignis with. Ignis could already imagine the depths he would sink to in the name of desperation if it meant he had a chance to save Noct. Using the Ring had been just a start. And, if he had to, manipulating Ravis, was the next step.

He didn’t have to. There was no fight left in Ravus for anything. “You weren’t wrong about Lunafreya’s wishes. She was afraid she’d grown too weak to both make the covenant and deliver the Ring to Noctis. She asked me to deliver the Ring in her stead.”

“You refused?”

“It was her duty, her right, as the Oracle. I knew she would find the strength and she did. Yet if I had not believed in her, I might have been here at her side to protect her. I should have been regardless. I was so certain I could sway her from her path or clear it of dangers on her behalf. Yet all along I should have been walking it with her.”

“You’ll walk it now? You’ll pick up where she was forced to stop?” Ignis asked, sensing he was giving the answers already.

Minutes passed, but finally, Ravus gave his assent. “I must be as mad as you.”

“A little madness helps with our group, I’ve found.”

“Are you sure it won’t be simply anger? I’ve given the others no reason to trust me.”

“They trust me,” Ignis said, “and I think you know how convincing I can be.” He was sure of both, but some asks were bigger than others. And this ask was going to be huge, especially since he wasn’t ready to share the true reason why he was asking. He’d be lying to his friends, mostly by omission, but lying nonetheless. Lying, though, was sometimes kinder than the truth. In this case, definitely less painful.

Telling Prompto would be akin to kicking a puppy. He was the most sensitive of the four, even if he did his best to hide it. He was also the only one with them purely out of friendship, with no oaths or familial roles passed down for centuries to bind him, just devotion. Talk of fated death in the name of duty was easier to take for someone raised to believe in those roles. For someone who didn’t care about any of that…

Not that Gladio would be much better, maybe like kicking a baby behemoth. Gladio’s feelings ran deep, both out of duty and affection. Telling him, the King’s Shield and brother that he was destined to fail no matter how hard he tried? There was no question that was cruel. Impractical too, because Ignis could already hear Gladio angrily calling the prophecy the bullshit that it was in a volume that would carry all the way back to Lucis. Or at least to Noctis’s ears.

Ravus had a point about wishing to know for himself, but the more Ignis thought of it, the more he was convinced to keep it just between himself and Ravus for now. If they could find a way to subvert the prophecy, then he’d be subjecting his friends to this strife for nothing. More wishful thinking perhaps, but Ignis would rather wish than give up.

There was no time to debate with himself any further. He heard his name and Noct’s being shouted across the canals, Prompto’s voice being nearly as loud as Gladio’s in their zeal to find their friends Ignis almost wanted to chide them for making so much noise. If there were any MTs left in the city, they’d be swarming. But there weren’t and Ignis could be relieved instead, despite the nervousness rising in his throat from what laid ahead.

“Let me do the talking,” he instructed Ravus. “And ix-nay on the ophecy-pray.”

“Are you trying to make me reconsider?”

_I’m trying to keep myself calm_. It wasn’t working. There was a lot of horrible ground to cover - _Lady Lunafreya’s gone, I used the Ring of the Lucii and I’m pretty sure it permanently blinded me, Ardyn is substantially more disturbing than we thought, and oh, yes, Noct’s going to die_ \- and the one bright spot - _I’m going to conspire with Ravus to come up with a solution to that last part but I’ll be keeping that from you_ \- wasn’t going to be any easier.

Difficulty never stopped him before and it wouldn’t stop him now. The pain had subsided. He reached out a hand to Ravus to help him pull him up. It was best to be upright for this part. Explanations needed to be made; he was good at those. A good bit of diplomacy was going to be needed to integrate Ravus into the group; Ignis had trained most of his life in that. A prophecy needed to be told exactly where it could shove itself; that was new but he’d get that sorted - in any way he had to.


	2. 10 Things I Hate About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting Ravus to agree to travel with them was one thing. Getting Gladio on board is another thing entirely.

Being born into a family of chamberlains had its advantages. Years of training had given Ignis the ability to talk himself out of many a scenario while keeping a placid demeanour. He’d just never pictured himself in one quite like this. 

Prompto didn’t know who to be worried about more - the unconscious Noctis or the blinded and burned Ignis. Ignis assured him Noct’s condition was temporary. He’d wake up soon enough after regaining his strength. Ignis had no such assurances for the blindness. Not real ones anyway, but he tried his best to sound hopeful for recovery. It was made easier by Prompto wanting to believe him.

Whether Gladio bought it, Ignis couldn’t tell. His friend had pulled him up and put a protective arm around him that he pointedly had not moved from Ignis’s shoulder throughout all of Ignis’s explanations. The grip grew tighter when Ignis finally got to covering Ravus’s presence and how that was going to be permanent.

“You asked him to join us?” Gladio asked in a dictionary perfect tone of incredulity. “And he said yes?”

“We reached an agreement. Our goals are in alignment and traveling together would be mutually beneficial.” He sounded like he was trying to sell a trade agreement to a politician, an approach that was likely setting off Gladio’s bullshit detectors. He couldn’t course correct with the full truth, but this was Gladio. He deserved some of the truth and he’d be able to find a way to handle it.

“We need him,” Ignis whispered to him. “I’ll be out of commission for awhile and Noct has more than a physical recuperation to go through given what happened.”

Gladio didn’t bother to match the low tone. If anything, he spoke up. “If we’re that bad off, we can track down Cor. Hell, I’d rather send for Iris. At least I know I can trust her to have my back. If he’s watching my back, it’s probably to find the best spot to put the knife in.”

“I assure you, Amicitia, if I wished to strike you, I would not think to do it in such a cravenly manner.”

And that was why Ignis had told Ravus to let him do all the talking. Gladio had gotten over his feelings of failure after being beaten at the Aracheole Stronghold, but his regained confidence in being Noctis’s shield hadn’t come with forgiveness towards Ravus. There was no reason that it should have either and snippy comments weren’t going to help.

The best thing to do for now was to shut everything down and start again when everybody had had a chance to rest and put this terrible day behind them - and Ignis had had more time to think up a plausible way to make this work. “We can talk about this later. We need to get Noct to a safer location first. We should contact Secretary Claustra and let her know our status, perhaps ask for her assistance as well.”

“Good old Iggy,” Prompto said. “Making plans just like always.” He _really_ wanted to believe. 

Gladio...not nearly as much. “Yeah, great plans,” he snorted. Ignis would bet a million gil he accompanied that pronouncement with a death glare directed at Ravus and then another million that Ravus was returning the favor.

Noctis, Ignis realized, was the key to making this work. If he was okay with the new traveling arrangements, then Gladio would likely fall in line. Getting Noctis to the point of being okay was a trick in and of itself, especially since he was sure it would involve getting Ravus to play nice. Or less grumpily and definitely with his sword sheathed.

By the Six, Ignis was in for a lot of fast talking in the next few days.

That would be later. They needed to get moving now. The pain had mostly fled, but Ignis was still exhausted. He nearly stumbled when Gladio moved away to go pick up Noctis. Prompto was quickly at his side, offering assistance with a faked cheer that Ignis refused to interpret as pity.

“To Secretary Claustra’s estate?” Ravus asked. “I know the way.”

“Glad you do,” Prompto said. “This city is a maze.”

Ignis might be having issues with the Astrals and destiny at the moment, but he was grateful for whatever quirk of fate had delivered Prompto to them. As for Gladio, Ignis was putting yet another million gil on eye rolling and lots of it. There weren’t any further comments from him though. There wasn’t much talking from any of them as they made their way through the city aside from Ravus, in the lead, giving the occasional warning of debris in the street, Prompto thanking him for it, and Gladio grunting that he saw it.

It wasn’t the best start but it wasn’t the worst either.

+++

Ignis had always had a keen internal clock. Whatever time he awoke, without checking, he could guess the time within an hour. He never had the need for alarms either. Given a time to wake up, he’d wake up. He’d still set the alarm because it never hurt to make sure, but he had never needed it.

Waking up in darkness unsettled and frightened him more than he cared to admit. It even took him a minute to remember where he was - in a bedroom in the guest wing of Secretary’s Claustra’s estate. True, he’d virtually passed out the moment he’d laid down in the bed and a long sleep had certainly been earned given the ordeal he’d endured. It didn’t change the fact that Ignis had no clue whether it was night or day let alone the hour. He disliked that on an almost primal level.

More unnerving was Prompto informing him he’d been asleep for a day and a half. “I was actually wondering if you or Noct would wake up first. I know the guy loves his sleep, but this is getting kinda crazy.” 

He was practically begging for reassurance. Ignis offered it on instinct and found that it calmed him as well. It was familiar ground at least. He recalled to Prompto what he knew of the stasis Lucian kings would enter after they’d extended too much of their power, making it sound as mundane as he could.

“Yeah, well, you know Noct. He’ll probably wake up and want to take a nap.”

_I wouldn’t blame him for wanting to go back to sleep once he learns everything that happened_ , Ignis thought. He wouldn’t mind curling up in a ball and shutting out the world for awhile. That wasn’t a luxury Ignis could afford though. More settled now, he got a status report from Prompto instead.

So far, Ravus and Gladio hadn’t killed each other. This might have been due to Ravus only leaving his room once to speak with Secretary Claustra and Gladio having parked a chair beside Noct’s bed and staying in it unless it was absolutely necessary to get up. Prompto had flitted between Noctis and Ignis’s rooms, worrying himself sick over his comrades. He’d tried watching television but every channel had become a constant news feed about how awful everything was in Altissia. Nif propaganda was in full effect, blaming the whole mess on Noctis angering the Tidemother. Of course the empire had tried valiantly to contain the damage but their incompetent, formally new and now ex-High Commander, had botched the job. Emperor Aldercapt felt ever so sad for the suffering of Altissia and assured the people they would have justice. Prompto had lost his appetite for TV after that.

“They want to execute Ravus,” Prompto said. “Going full scapegoat according to Secretary Claustra. Not that he or any of us are still in Altissia to discuss that stuff with her. Just a bunch of refugees here, in case anybody asks.”

It was unlikely anybody would. Guards were stationed all over the estate and nobody except for Claustra’s personal physician had been allowed near the rooms they were in. The doctor had treated minor wounds and administered fluids but had been at a loss about what else to do. Given the mystical nature of most of those injuries and Noct’s coma, there wasn’t much she could have done.

“Real nice lady, though,” Prompto added. “Swore herself to secrecy and everything. Said she could come back and check out your eyes when you were awake. I mean, if you want her to. So, uh…”

“How are my eyes?” They weren’t burning at all, so there was a plus. Ignis put a hand up them and felt the area around them. His right eye wasn’t bad. In time, he suspected the marks there would fade into faint scars. On the left, he felt a relief map of charred skin. That he didn’t think would vanish so readily. To his surprise there was a blob of slightly blacker darkness right around where he assumed Prompto’s voice was coming from. He asked the younger man to move around and the blob moved with him. Ignis was nearly giddy with relief that he had some vision. Maybe the Lucci were kinder than he thought and he hadn’t been wrong to hope it would get better.

“Awesome, Iggy! You’ll have your sight back in no time!”

Ignis wouldn’t go quite that far. He was the level headed one and all that. Still, he was heartened enough to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. He had to try walking some time.

“Whoa, take it easy!” Prompto was at his side lightning quick. Of course he wasn’t going to let Ignis walk alone.

Ignis swayed upon standing, even with Prompto bracing him. That wasn’t the blindness but a head rush from standing up too fast after lying down for so long. It was an ultimately harmless mistake, but a stupid, careless one Ignis could no longer afford to make. He’d go slow and he’d let Prompto cling as tightly to him as he wanted. He’d cling back a little too.

They made their way to Noctis’s room where Gladio broke his vigil to wrap Ignis in a bearhug that lifted him clean off the ground.

Ignis was touched but disoriented. “I appreciate to sentiment,” he said, “but I’d prefer to have my feet on the floor.”

“Sorry, man. It was just so good to see one of you up.”

Gladio set him down with an almost comical amount of care. They then went through a repeat of the conversation Ignis had had with Prompto. Gladio’s prognosis on his eyesight was equally optimistic which had the odd effect of making Ignis a touch more cynical. He understood hoping for the best, but he’d always paired that with preparing for, if not the worst, than something not so relentlessly optimistic. A contrarian in him, he supposed. He should talk to Ravus. There was an opinion that wasn’t going to be nearly as sunny.

His priority though was getting Gladio to rest. The big man balked and insisted he was fine while Prompto huffed his doubts in the background. 

“Prompto said you’ve barely slept and I’ve done nothing but. We’re perfectly safe here but soon we’ll be setting out to where we’re not. A haggard shield is not an effective shield.”

Gladio could only mumble about how pointless it was to debate Ignis. “Chair’s not that comfortable,” he said, either to warn Ignis or to get some points against him. He still helped Ignis get seated and Ignis returned the favor by admitting he was right about the chair.

“Yeah, well, have fun watching over Noct. I mean-”

“Have fun listening over Noct,” Ignis corrected. Being blinded by the spirits of Noctis’s ancestors for using their power was no reason to lose his sense of humor.

Gladio left and Ignis sent Prompto away with instructions to get the latest news from Secretary Claustra. There was no telling how long Noct would be asleep but there had to be a plan in place for when he woke. In the darkness, as Ignis listened to his friend breathe, he found himself sick of plans for the moment.

+++

Noctis woke another day and half later. Ignis was there to tell him what had happened, to hear his grief over Lady Lunafreya’s death and his disbelief at Ignis’s suggestion that they stop their journey altogether. It was the easiest way to void the prophecy. It was also the most insulting to Noct’s sense of duty.

Before arriving at that altar, Ignis would have been ashamed to even proffer such a cowardly notion. He would have listed all the same reasons Noctis gave and added a few more of his own. As it was, he only nodded along, gave Noctis the notebook Umbra had brought, and left the room using the cane Secretary Claustra’s doctor had acquired for him as a guide. Once outside, he wondered briefly if Noctis had noticed that there was something off about him. Then he leaned against the closed door, listened to the King of Lucis sob like a child, and recognized Noctis had far more devastating things to process.

Some sixth sense must have roused Gladio. Ignis had only taken a few steps when the big man appeared in the hall. Ignis’s vision remained a miasma of dark shapes upon a dark background but Gladio’s bulk made his shape somewhat distinct. Ignis knew what he was going to ask. The same things he’d asked every time he’d caught Ignis away from Noct’s room in the past thirty-six hours.

Ignis ran down the list. “Yes, he’s awake. He’s fine, physically at any rate. When I told him about Lady Lunafreya... well, let’s just say I think it best to leave him alone with his grief for now.”

“What about-”

Ignis raised a hand to cut him off. There were a lot of subjects that needed to be covered. Every one of them could wait. “Give him some time. We’ve been making plans without him. We can continue until he’s ready to join us.”

“He did just wake up,” Gladio conceded. “But we can’t keep spinning our wheels here forever. We’re going to have to move on and he’s gotta be the one who tells as where we’re going. And who we’re going with.”

That last part wasn’t subtle. There’d hadn’t been any hostilities between Ravus and Gladio but there hadn’t been any attempts at conciliation either. With Noctis awake, Ignis was free to focus on how to get the others to accept that their quartet of friends was now a quintet of four friends and a surly ally of convenience. The first thing he could do was find a way to make that sound better in his own head and out of his head too if this was going to work.

+++

Ignis had wondered how Ravus had spent his time while he was holed up in his room. He hadn’t pictured the former prince and high commander to be watching television but that’s what he was doing. The incongruity was alleviated a bit by the show on air being a retrospective on Lady Lunafreya’s life. Rather than making her brother melancholy though, it seemed to be making him angry.

“Sentimental drivel. They speak of her duties but nothing of who she was beyond. They bemoan the loss of their healer without care for what she suffered.”

“The public didn’t know her as you did,” Ignis said. Best to start out on the sure footing of Ravus’s affection for his sister.

“No, that was by unfortunate design. The Oracle had to be a symbol to the people more than her own woman. Even as a child, her public demeanor had to be of strength and purity.”

It struck Ignis how much a woman who had to live such a guarded life would have valued an outlet like her notebook exchanges with Noctis. Completely private, there she had been free to be and write whatever she wanted and receive another’s earnest thoughts in return. That might not be the point to make in the moment though.

“It must have been hard on her. And you, as well.”

Ravus snorted. “I’ve watched these programs for hours. I’ve heard my own name perhaps twice. The weight of her duty, the eyes of the world, they were always on Lunfreya and Mother before her.”

Again, Ignis thought of Noctis. Regis had ensured his education and training, but had kept his son from public scrutiny as much as he could. It wasn’t as much as Noct liked - a prince had some obligations to put in appearances lest his absences raise a stir - but it wasn’t close to the level Lady Lunafreya had had to endure. He still must have been a sympathetic voice.

With Noct so heavy on his mind, Ignis decided to go ahead and get to the point of his visit. “I didn’t mean to interrupt but I thought you should know Noctis is awake.”

“I suppose I am to say I am relieved.”

“That would be the decent thing to do, yes.”

Ravus paused momentarily and then declared. “I am relieved.”

Ignis couldn’t help himself; he laughed. There was a sense of humor underneath the dourness. He wouldn’t be repeating the joke to the others but there was something work with. “I’m sure the warmth of your sentiments will hearten him greatly.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t care what my sentiments are. Does his recovery mean we’ll be departing soon?”

“No, it may be awhile. The news of your sister’s death hit him hard. I think it will be some time before he’s ready to resume our journey.”

“Is that so?” Ravus asked. It was the softest he’d ever spoken of Noctis. He might not respect him, but it sounded like there was a spark of empathy there. “I see no need for haste though I have grown tired of the confines of this room.”

“Then perhaps you ought to leave it.”

“There’s an order of execution against me. The less I am seen, the better.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of going to other rooms.”

Once again, Ignis was frustrated by not being able to get a visual read on Ravus. His silence could mean anything from being reluctant to agree to contemplating how moronic he found Ignis’s suggestion. Or he could be listening to the television, which was currently replaying Lady Lunafreya’s speech from when she first ascended to being the Oracle. She’d been sixteen then, the youngest Oracle ever, and yet she’d spoken of her fondness and faith in the people of Eos like a seasoned orator. Ignis hoped the following portion about her pride in her duty was provoking similar feelings in her brother.

“I agreed to assist you, nothing more,” Ravus said.

So he’d gotten the duty part. Fondness and faith weren’t forthcoming, especially the former. Ignis would have to aim a little lower. Something like tolerance and not automatically assuming the worst? “I appreciate that. The issue is that the others aren’t quite as receptive. And your assistance will be of greater value for all of us if we come to an understanding.”

“An understanding based on you concealing the true reason why you requested my assistance in the first place?”

_You’re trying to be infuriating, aren’t you? I can do that too._ “I wish to protect my friends. I won’t be shamed for that. And part of that protection is ingratiating you into the group. I assume you were raised with enough manners to help me with that, but if you’d rather sit here and sulk, more the fool I for assuming.”

“You’ll hector me until I relent?”

“Something like that.”

The speech ended and the host of the program began gushing over how inspiring it had been. Then they cut to a commercial with Kenny Crow shrieking about the newest sandwich, some abomination of different meats and cheeses and a secret sauce that Ignis highly suspected was just a mixture of ketchup and mayonnaise. It ended with Kenny assuring the audience that in these trying times, there was nothing like a good meal with good friends at the Crow’s Nest. Ignis hadn’t thought it possible to hear someone cringe but that was definitely the impression he got from Ravus. He could have been misattributing his own wincing.

“From one absurdity to the next,” Ravus said. “I’ll meet with them to review future plans.”

“And you’ll be friendly?”

“I’ll be polite.”

“Gladio will likely try to goad you to prove a point.”

“I’ve spent years dealing with Niflheim officials. He’s welcome to try. Anything else?”

“If you could come up with a few puns…”

“No.”

He didn’t say it with as much disgust as he could have nor did he kick Ignis out of the room. That could be called progress.

+++

In theory, it shouldn’t have been that difficult to chart a course into Gralea. There were only so many roads that led into the capital city of Niflheim. Taking the Regalia was clearly not their best choice. The constant winter that had battered the Ghorovas Rift since the death of Shiva made travel through that region treacherous by anything other than train or possibly a specialty vehicle like a snowmobile if they cared to brave the elements and had some way of acquiring them. They didn’t on both counts so the train was really their only choice. Somehow, they found a way to argue about it.

Gladio didn’t like being in a vehicle they had no control over. It could be stopped and searched at any time. Picking a fight while surrounded by civilians didn’t feel right and could result in their train car being disconnected and ditched but if they had to flee to avoid detection, they’d also be stranded. Fighting daemons, monsters, and MTs was bad enough. They didn’t need to fight the weather too. Ignis couldn’t find much to argue with in any of his points.

Ravus insisted security on the trains was light until they made into Gralea proper. Gladio insisted he wasn’t just going to take Ravus’s word for it with so much on the line.

For that, Ignis did intervene. “Aldercapt has called for his execution. Ravus is in as much danger if he’s captured as the rest of us. What point is there in misleading us about security?”

“I don’t know,” Gladio countered. “Seems like offering up the King of Lucis and his retainers might be a good way to get back into the Empire’s good graces.”

“I’ve no love for Niflheim or desire to return. They were a means to end, nothing more.”

“And what’s your end now? You spend twelve years pretending to be loyal to them and now I’m supposed to buy you’re loyal to us?”

“My loyalty is as it ever was, to my sister. It is her memory and wishes I serve, not you.”

Ignis nudged Ravus’s foot under the table. That remark was teetering towards the wrong side of polite.

Gladio took it that way. He snorted and said, “Can you believe this guy?”

“Well,” Prompto said, “at least he’s being honest.” He’d mostly kept out of the discussions, stating it wasn’t like he had any special knowledge of Niflheim. Ignis thought the younger man seemed on edge though that could easily be due to the tension in the air. They were in the lounge shared by their guest rooms, all but Gladio sitting around a large table covered with maps. As Gladio moved back and forth, the marbled floor recorded the angry tick of his pacing. The vaulted ceilings of the lounge were doing wonders to amplify already raised voices.

“Is he?” Gladio asked. “How can you trust him so much, Iggy? After all the shit he’s pulled, you’re fine with him being with us? You’re fine with trusting him Noct’s life? Cause that’s what you’re doing.”

“He fought with me through Altissia and he did stop Aryden from stabbing Noctis.” Ignis left off the small detail of Ravus wanting to stab Noct himself. He didn’t think Gladio would be interested in a dissertation on how grief can drive people into reckless, violent actions. He knew Gladio wouldn’t be interested in believing it either.

“Yeah and Ardyn stopped him from choking Noct to death back at that Nif base. You going to invite Chancellor Creepy along too?”

“Ardyn is our mutual enemy,” Ravus said evenly, “a more forbidding enemy than any of us realized. Any assistance against him should be welcomed.”

“And yet you were buddies before.”

“He was an ally of convenience. He was aware of my ulterior motive of keeping Lunafreya safe and seemingly tolerant of it. I erred in judgment obviously but at the time -”

“Wow,” Gladio shouted, cutting Ravus off. “One ‘oops, my bad’ and now everything’s all better. Of course, I gotta ask, what happens when all of us stop being convenient? You going to turn on us as quick?”

They were fair questions. Ignis would have asked them in different circumstances. He knew Gladio’s belligerence wasn’t just from his dislike of Ravus. He was trying to provoke him like he’d had predicted. If Ravus remembered that and held his temper, perhaps Gladio would take it as proof that Ravus deserved a chance. It was entirely in Ravus’s hands though. There was nothing Ignis could do but trust in him. That, and offer up a silent prayer of _‘please, please, please don’t be an asshole’_ to that effect.

Ravus, thankfully, answered the prayer though his tone was as measured as you could get without recording equipment. “”I cannot undo mistakes, only strive to not repeat them.”

“And if you don’t strive hard enough?”

Ravus let out a long breath. Apparently, he was finding Gladio more annoying to deal with than the likes of the Emperor and Ardyn. Ignis found that boggling but then those people probably thought being a haughty ass was a plus, or amusing in Ardyn’s case. Gladio was going to require a much more delicate touch.

And then fate decided now was a good time to toss a new challenge onto the pile.

“What is everybody yelling about? And what is he doing here?”

No one answered Noctis. They were all surprised to see him out of his room so shortly after Ignis had assured them he wanted to be left alone. Ignis, not yet accustomed to what a Noctis-shaped form of darkness looked like upright, turned toward the origin of his voice and tried to begin explaining. “Noct, there are some things we need to discuss.”

“No kidding,” Gladio said. “But you answered your first question with your second.”

Of the four of them, only Prompto thought to ask how Noctis was doing. “Sorry we bothered you. You okay though? We could always do this later.”

Noct didn’t bother with claiming he was fine. “I want to know why Ravus is here.”

Ignis did try to seize control of the conversation here. This had to be handled with the utmost care. Gladio’s resistance would only increase with every tiny doubt Noctis had. Ignis started slowly. “Ravus has agreed to join us.”

“Agreed to? As in somebody actually asked him to and he said yes?”

“I asked him to,” Ignis admitted. He once again told the tale of their fight through the Altissian streets with the now standard editing out of what happened when they first arrived at the Altar. Ravus huffed at the omission but had the sense not to correct it. The rest of the account was fairly thorough until he got to his reason for inviting Ravus to join them. That got an abridgement as well.

Noct, bless him, forgot about Ravus entirely. “You used the Ring? You could have died!”

“A possibility. Your death at Ardyn’s hands if I hadn’t intervened seemed more of a certainty. I had no choice.”

“No, you chose to hurt yourself to save me. And now you’re blind because of me.”

“He could get better,” Prompto interjected. “He can sorta see blobs and stuff where people are. It’s just been a couple of days too.”

Noctis was not in the mood to be optimistic. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for anything. He deflated completely and was ready to return to his room before Gladio had to remind him why he’d come out in the first place.

“We need to talk about this,” he said. “If he needs to go, and I think he does, the sooner the better.”

Gladio’s urgency wasn’t shared. Noct took a few shuffling steps back towards his room before he stopped and asked, “You’re doing this for Luna?” It was clear that any answer that was an affirmative was going to be accepted.

The lack of resistance must have caught Ravus off guard. Instead of a florid declaration, he simply said yes.

Gladio saw how this was going to go and he did not like it. “That’s it? You’re just going to take his word for it?”

“Iggy trusts him. I trust Iggy.”

“No, you feel bad he got hurt so you’re just doing what he wants without thinking about it. I normally trust him too but he’s not thinking clearly about this. You just can’t sweep everything that bastard did under the rug with nothing more than a sob story about his sister and his say so.”

Ignis had known how important Noct’s approval was going to be. Still, hearing it being given so readily and with more resignation than conviction made him feel guilty. And uneasy. Noctis’s grief was raw and profound and he was letting it control him. The raw part would wane over time. The profound might never fade. The advisor in him was alarmed even it meant he was getting his way. He could hardly argue that Gladio was right though.

Fortunately, Ravus came through again. “I have one more thing to offer. If you’ll excuse me to retrieve it.”

“You going to run off?” Gladio asked. It was obvious he was looking for a positive answer too.

“It’s in my room. Perhaps though it will take an overlong time to retrieve and you may continue your discussion in my absence.”

Ravus said that with such saccharine solicitousness that Ignis guessed he was leaving not out of deference but because he’d reached his limit for polite conversation. Gladio had blown past his and was edging into the brutal honesty/full on jerk for good reason but still a jerk range. Ravus in a similar mood would not have been a good combination. 

Once Ravus was gone, Gladio wasted no time laying out his bluntest case. “I don’t care what he’s got stashed in his room. It’s not going to erase what he’s done. He took part in destroying Insomnia. The Six only know what he did to get promoted to Nif commander. You know, beyond betraying his own country. We’re already dealing with enough shit and heading into Nif territory, it’s only going to get deeper. We can’t afford mistakes and he’s a huge one. We don’t need him. And Iggy, I trust you with my life, but there’s no way I can trust him. What are you even thinking?”

“I was thinking people can do awful things for nobles reasons. I was thinking once someone realizes the error of that way, they can change and possibly redeem themselves.” Ignis was also thinking how much easier this would be if he told them of the prophecy and the opportunity Ravus represented to overcome it, but with Noct’s despondency over Lady Lunafreya’s fate and Gladio’s protectiveness in overdrive, his resolve to keep it secret hardened. 

Gladio sighed. He was clearly getting sick of having to make what he thought was the obvious argument. “He’s a Nif. He’s not gonna change that easy.”

“Not all Nifs are bad.” Prompto said it so quietly that Ignis wondered if he meant to say it aloud at all, an impression bolstered by how quickly he followed up. “I mean, Aranea’s pretty cool, right? She’s helped us a couple of times with big daemons when she didn’t have to.”

“She’s a mercenary,” Gladio pointed out. “She never had any loyalty to Niflheim beyond her paycheck.”

“And Ravus never had any loyalty to Niflheim outside of using their power to protect Lady Lunafreya.” 

“So he says. You got any proof, Iggy?”

“He did kill Caligo Ulldor and helped-”

“Wait, wait, wait. He killed that piece of crap? Maybe you should have led with that.”

“So you like him better because he killed a guy?” Prompto asked. “I know what Ulldor did but that’s still kinda messed up.”

“I’ll give him a point. I’m not ready to like him. Or trust him.”

This was going nowhere. Gladio wasn’t going to budge on his view of Ravus’s character so Ignis decided to change up his pitch and make that protectiveness work for him. “Gladio, you said we don’t need him but I beg to differ. You’re absolutely right that we’re heading for treacherous territory. I only have academic knowledge of the western continent. Our ultimate goal, Zegnautus Keep, is a complete mystery. But not to Ravus. He can be our guide. With him, I’ll be the only one stumbling around blindly instead of all of us. He’s an asset. We should use him.”

It was more than a touch underhanded to work his blindness into the argument but there he was again, putting strategy over everything else.

Gladio still wasn’t convinced but his counter was at a lower volume. “And what if he guides us into a trap?”

“We’ll be traveling with him for some time before we get to Niflheim proper. We’ll watch him carefully. If he does anything suspicious, then I’ll concede you were right and we’ll play it from there. I don’t think he will betray us, but if he does and we see it coming, we can turn that to our advantage.”

Finally, Gladio gave in. “Ah hell, Iggy, why did I think I could outtalk you? Look, I said my piece and I’m tired of arguing in circles. This isn’t my choice anyway. Noct, what have you decided?”

The prince seemed startled to be dragged into this. It was worrisome how quiet he’d been. He should have been asking questions. He should have been coming up with his own points and counterpoints. He should, at minimum, be weighing Gladio’s case against Ignis’s. Instead, he just shrugged it off. “I said I trusted Iggy. So, whatever…”

“Whatever?” Gladio repeated. “Wow, there’s a proclamation one longs to hear from their king.”

“Look,” Noctis snapped and it was relief to Ignis to hear some fight in him even if his logic wasn’t really logic but pure emotion. “He said he was doing it for Luna and I know what she would have wanted.”

“Yeah, she would have wanted her brother and us to be pals. But wanting something doesn’t make it real.”

“Not wanting it doesn’t make it not real,” Prompto offered. It was natural he’d back up Noctis. “Beside you heard Iggy’s plan. He behaves, we good. He doesn’t, we kick his butt.”

That was a good a summation as any. Nobody wanted to add to it going by the silence that followed. Gladio was stewing, Ignis knew. It was best to leave him be. Noct was brooding, on the verge of spiralling. Something should be done there but Ignis was at a loss as to what. His grief was too fresh and too earned. He didn’t want to dismiss it or diminish it. He’d let Noct be as well, keeping a close eye, _or whatever_ , on him.

Ravus reemerged after they’d been quiet for a few minutes. He was carrying something long but Ignis couldn’t tell what beyond that. The gasp Prompto let out gave him a clue. 

Noct, so withdrawn through this whole exchange, suddenly moved towards their former foe. “That’s...,” he whispered. “That’s my father’s.”

“I promised Lunafreya I would give this to you should you earn the Tidemother’s blessing,” Ravus said. “I would honor that promise.”

It had become a familiar feeling, that crackle of energy that ran through the air as Noct manifested his armiger and it began circling about him. Then came a surge of power and the grunt of pain that accompanied the absorption of a new weapon into the mystical array. Noct was always solemn in these moments and this time wasn’t any different. He stood unmoving until, without a word, he retreated back to his room.

“Heavy,” Prompto said. There was a tinge of nervousness in his voice, as if he’d been moved by what he’d just seen but didn’t know how or if he should get into that.

Gladio knew exactly what he wanted to say. “So you returned a sword that you stole in the first place. You want a medal?”

“I don’t expect anything from you.” 

“You should expect me to watch you like a hawk. And when you do show your true colors, you should expect me to end you.” Gladio didn’t stick around for a response. He left even more quickly than Noctis.

“I gather the decision has been made,” Ravus said. “And that it was not unanimous.”

“Gladio’s a cool guy,” Prompto insisted. “He’s just super protective of Noct.”

“He would be a poor Shield if he were not.”

“Yeah, okay then. So you understand. That’s, uh...good?”

Ignis could understand why Prompto was so confused. He thought he’d had a handle on Ravus’s thought processes but then he’d just shown up with Regis’s sword. Ignis remembered hearing some hunter’s gossip about Ravus keeping the sword on him but the man hadn’t said a word about it even though it sounded like returning it had been his intention all along. As Gladio had pointed out earlier, there were some things you should probably lead with.

And in regards to all things prophetic and pertinent to Noctis’s ascension as the King of Light, there was nothing they shouldn’t be sharing. 

Ignis would have to have a private word with Ravus. That would have to come later. From the sounds of crinkling paper, Prompto was back to the maps. They did need to resolve this and Ravus was the best source of information about Niflheim. That would be one problem down. As much as Ignis longed for a grand solution to all their problems, that was really the only they could to this: one step at a time.


	3. Steal This Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys take their first step to learn more about the prophecy and Ignis lets Ravus know exactly why Noct is worth it.

With Noctis back on his feet and the decision about Ravus made, Ignis thought they’d leave Altissia in a week, two at the most. They’d continue laying low at Claustra’s estate to let the Imperial presence decrease and use that time to plot their treacherous itinerary into Gralea in as much detail as they could muster. It was a plan everyone thought wise and agreed to. Even the Nifs played along. Despite their televised pledges to clean up the mess they’d made, Imperial forces dwindled daily until only a cursory, and readily avoidable, force remained.

Their departure could have been right on schedule except as it drew closer, Noctis came up with other plans. Or excuses to be more exact.

He didn’t want to leave the Regalia behind. That was understandable. The car meant too much to him, to all of them really, to leave it behind in the hold of the boat. And if they needed to abandon the train, a vehicle that was poorly suited to the terrain was better than no vehicle at all. Secretary Claustra was gracious enough to arrange to have the Regalia offloaded and stored in a warehouse until it would be loaded onto the train when they did decide to depart. Determining when that ‘when’ would be was the hard part.

Ignis’s vision was the second excuse even as Ignis himself insisted it wouldn’t be an issue. Noctis, though, wanted to give him more time to recover. Not adapt, but recover. The others used that language too, despite the days passing and nothing improving. Only Ravus took the approach that the loss of his eyesight was permanent.

“I’m familiar with the generosity of the Lucii,” he explained when Ignis asked him why. “They exacted their toll for a reason. I find it unlikely they’re of a mind to return it.”

Ignis, who was only able to distinguish between Gladio and Ravus by the black mass that represented the former being wider throughout and the latter becoming trimmer below his broad chest until his raiment began flaring out at his waist, had no choice but to agree. Especially after Ravus changed into another coat and removed the armor plating on his Magitek arm in order to blend in better. He blended so well that Ignis had to switch to calculating things like the posture of a dark shape and if that slightly different shade of black near the top of the shape was hair and whether it read as a mullet or a bob to discern who was who by sight. His correct percentage was slightly above fifty so, technically, he was doing better than if he had guessed randomly, so he was adapting. He was not recovering.

Still, Noctis demanded more time. Prompto indulged him without question. Gladio grew impatient to the point of calling the excuses out for what they were. “We can’t stay here forever because he wants to mope,” he declared. 

Ignis agreed with him on one level. On another, he’d heard an advertisement on the radio for the Altissian library letting everyone know it was open while mentioning its exhibit of ancient tomes had been postponed until further notice. ‘Ancient tomes’ had the ring of usefulness for someone interested in an ancient prophecy. ‘Postponed’ meant some surreptitious activity was in order if he wanted access to them.

After that, he came up with an excuse of his own. As part of adapting, he was venturing out into the city using Ravus as a guide. The spacious and immaculate hallways of the guest wing of the Secretary’s manor were a good beginners course for relearning how to get around. A city strewn with debris was more advanced. Whatever they were heading into, the advanced training was going to be needed. Like the best excuses, this was true.

Gladio and Prompto both volunteered as escorts but Ignis turned them down on the basis that neither was as familiar with the city as Ravus but they were vastly better equipped to reach out to Noctis. Both of these statements were also true, but only by a hair on the first one. They got horribly lost the first time out and Ignis’s slow going elicited a few brusque comments from Ravus. Their second attempt brought them to their true goal of the library. Once in, they mingled easily among the Altissian civilians seeking a break from all the activity of the relief efforts going on. The crowd also provided cover for them to slip down into the restricted archives that contained those ancient tomes and hopefully, more esoteric texts that covered their subject of choice: the Astrals.

Ignis had to rely on Ravus to both keep watch and go through the stacks to find potentially relevant documents. He didn’t seem to mind the double duty. Ravus had his churlish moments but ever since agreeing to help Ignis, that was exactly what he’d done. He’d even taken Ignis’s criticism about failing to mention the Sword of the Father with nothing more than a tad snide observation that Ignis considered the withholding of information an offense and a pledge to be more forthcoming.

He was certainly putting in the work today. First he read off titles to Ignis. If one sounded interesting, he’d skim through the opening chapter to get a feel for what the rest of the book was about and then give Ignis a summary. Being an Altissian library, most of the texts were about Leviathan and it was easy choice to put them back. The Tidemother had always been the most detached of the Astrals towards humanity. She, and therefore books about her, probably weren’t concerned with prophecies about any particular human’s fate. They burnt through the morning working like this, stopping only when Ravus thought he saw someone near the door. Thankfully, no one tried to enter the archive. 

They’d come up with a cover story just in case. Ignis was a piteous blind man who’d been separated from his caretaker due to the large crowd. Helplessly he’d wandered until a frantic Ravus had been able to find him down here in all places. They were, naturally, just about to leave.

It was condescending but believable. Ignis was prepared to play up wagging the cane around to sell it. Ravus said he was prepared to borrow the cane to knock someone out with it if he had to. They preferred to avoid either course of action.

As they moved to the next shelf, Ravus asked if Ignis thought he’d be able to fight using the cane himself.

“I’d rather to stick to my daggers. As satisfying as thwacking a daemon might be, I believe slicing them apart to be far more efficient.”

“And you’re certain you’ll be able to differentiate between daemon and ally before you begin slicing?”

Ignis had grown certain of that or rather, more certain, nearly ninety percent he would say. Eighty-ish definitely. The daemons he’d encountered so far weren’t shaped like anyone he’d be fighting alongside. The few humanoid daemons he had seen had exaggerated heights or limbs to set them apart. All the daemons had a smell that would give them away.

It was everything else about combat that worried him. He needed sure footing and precise aim for a weapon like his daggers, the pole arm as well. Both were out the window in his current state. Over time, he might find a workaround but how much time did he actually have to learn and train, especially given what was proving to be the extremely tedious nature of his and Ravus’s side mission?

“Perhaps the cane isn’t a bad idea,” Ignis concedeed. “A bruise is better than a stab wound if I hit the wrong target.”

“How terribly ironic that would be, to find a way to spare Noctis’s life only to accidently perforate his lung.”

“Ah, so you do care.”

“I care not to waste my time.” He moved onto another shelf but didn’t read any of the titles. Ignis was about to ask him if something was wrong when Ravus said, “We’ve been at this for hours without a thing to show for it. We’re like to continue with the same success, not just here but in the library at Fenestala Manor and everywhere else. What if there is no secret to voiding the prophecy-”

“There is. And if there isn’t, I will make one.”

“Why?”

Ignis was confused by the question. Ravus knew full well what their goal was. Was he questioning their ability to achieve it? He didn’t strike Ignis as the sort to give up so easily after a mere morning of unproductive work. This was a man who tried to kill a god. Two of them. Ravus had to understand setbacks and the desire to continue on despite them. The whole reason he was here was his devotion to his sister’s memory.

_Oh._

“You want to know why I’m so insistent on saving Noctis.”

“It isn’t simply duty for you or the others. That much is clear.”

His history with Noctis was a long one. Best to start at the beginning back when he was six and Noct was three. It had been duty that had brought them together as he began explaining to Ravus. It had not remained that way. “It was not long after his mother died. He’d become withdrawn and shy and with the kingdom to rule, Regis could not look after him as he wished. I was close in age and of a line accustomed to serving the royalty of Lucis, so we were introduced.”

“A child assigned the responsibility of another child?”

“I was quite mature for my age,” Ignis joked. Looking back, it had been a lot to ask of a boy his age. He wouldn’t change it for anything given how it turned out, but he did concede he’d had doubts then. “I remember being overwhelmed when my parents told me who my new friend was going to be. I felt nauseous before we left for the throne room and I’m fairly sure if I’d eaten breakfast that morning, it would have ended up all over Regis’s shoes.”

Ignis smiled at the memory. He wondered if Ravus found amusement in the imagery as well. 

“As it turned out, there was no reason to be nervous. All Noct needed was a friend and that’s all he wanted. My duties were playing games and watching cartoons. Although, there was that one show with the singing garula puppet that was quite the task to endure. He loved that stupid thing. He and Prompto will occasionally sing some of the songs ‘ironically’ but Noct isn’t fooling me. Prompto either.”

Somewhere in the depths of the closet in Noct’s apartment, there was a plush of that garula with a broken music box inside. It had been a birthday gift, the first one Ignis had ever given him. Noct had carried it around and squeezed it so much to get the songs playing that he’d worn the music box out after a few months. He’d kept it anyway, refusing a replacement and years later, when Ignis would have sworn the thing long since thrown in the trash, he’d found it among Noctis’s thing when he’d helped him move in to the apartment. Noct had claimed he’d kept it for sentimental reasons only and had indignantly grabbed it away from Ignis after he’d teasingly asked him if the sentiment was for the garula or for him. It had never been a real question. Along with the garula, Noct had a small collection of ticket stubs, school photos and various tchotchkes stored away that hardly seemed befitting of a prince but were really the only sorts of things Noctis cared about. That in turn was a large part of the affection Ignis had for him.

He knew from Insomnia’s media and gossip around the Citadel that Noct had the image of a spoiled prince. It came not just from Regis’s indulgences but also from a misinterpretation of Noct’s aloofness around people he hadn’t gotten used to, an old echo of the shy boy Ignis had first met. Well, and a touch of the truth. Noct was a man who considered it cooking to put the bag of popcorn in the microwave himself. Doing laundry was making sure he’d put his clothing in the hamper before the maid came by.

But his laziness for mundane tasks wasn’t the core of Noctis. Once someone got to know him and the other way around, that image was stripped away and it became obvious how genuinely he cared for others. That quality was what Ignis wanted to convey to Ravus.

“As we grew older and he began attending public school, he did rely on me more heavily. Not for academics, though I do make very nice flash cards if you ever need help with your spelling or basic math. He didn’t know what to make of his classmates. They didn’t know what to make of him. They were in awe of a prince in their midst and he just wanted to play. It was very alienating for him. He was grounded, but everyone else wanted to place him up on a pedestal. Kicked my protective instincts in rather forcefully.”

Ravus gave a sigh that could have been sympathetic or a sign of boredom. He was, or had been, a prince himself. His and Lady Lunafreya’s childhood had likely held its share of similar tales of the isolating nature of their status. He could either be relating or wondering when Ignis was going to get to the point. Without visual cues, Ignis had to ask.

“We had tutors that came to the manor and we studied together daily. A more efficient method apparently.”

So he was looking for the point. It felt dismissive to gloss over the origin and nature of his love for Noctis but Ignis went on. Ravus should have this understanding.

“All I could do for him is be there when he needed me. More cartoons, more silly games. And bit by bit, he came out of his shell, became more confident, started doing well in school. He began opening up to people other than me. Yet I was the one he always returned to. I honestly think he took more pride in my achievements than his own. He always wanted to know what I was doing in my classes, always asked how my tests went. Made me want to do my best seeing how happy he was when I told him. And we continued until…” Ignis trailed off. This had been the worst time of his life. He didn’t care to revisit it. He didn’t much need to considering Ravus would know it already. “You met him after the Marilith attack You saw how he was then.”

“Yes, he latched onto Lunafreya as a chick imprints upon its mother. She could scarcely be away from him for a moment before he began asking after her. Only Lunafreya, a servant wouldn’t do. I had always thought him entitled.” Ravus paused as if taking in the new information Ignis had given him. “Perhaps, though, he was substituting her for you.”

Ignis was doubly pleased. A concession and the thought that Noctis had missed him were both wins. “I have been told I’m quite the mother hen,” he said. He’d resented it the first time he’d heard it but he’d come to understand that whatever jest it was said in, it was also said in affection. He was proud of it now. “I was so terrified for him then. First in a coma, then whisked off to Tenebrae, and then he barely made it back. And the boy who did return was withdrawn again, both from his injuries and having to leave Lady Lunafreya behind. You should know how fiercely he missed her. He constantly talked about getting stronger and going back to rescue her when he got older.”

“The notions of a child,” Ravus said. He didn’t sound bitter. He’d had his own dreams of saving his sister.

“Still, I think that’s the reason he persisted in his lessons with Gladio even though he didn’t like them or him when he first started.”

“He disliked Amicitia?”

“Would you believe that feeling was mutual? Gladio thought he was spoiled like you. Didn’t change his mind until Noct helped his sister, Iris, out. Noct didn’t know who she was. He just helped Iris because she needed it. That’s just how Noct is.”

“The prince of the common man,” Ravus said, with but a hint of disdain instead of the high levels of dry derision Ignis knew Ravus was capable of. “Is that why the lot of you went back and forth all over Lucis? Following the whims of his helpfulness? Ulldor thought it some strategy to throw the empire from your track. I wondered if you were simply fools who couldn’t figure out where to go.”

They had done a lot of stupid things just because someone asked them to, including a night spent searching a lake for frogs while daemons sprung up around them. “Noct does have an issue turning down people in need. It can be inopportune at times but mostly, I think it’s his greatest strength. Birth or status really don’t matter to him.”

For his final proof, he recounted to Ravus how Prompto had come to be part of their group. It was almost an oversell, the heartening story of the awkward commoner who became the prince’s dear friend,especially since the whole story actually did include Lady Lunafreya’s and Pryna’s involvement so he gave an abbreviated version that left out some of the personal details of Prompto’s life such as his foster parents. There was no need for Ravus to know all that anyway.

Another thing Ignis omitted was a personal detail of his own life which could have been his most mortifying moment but had become instead a relief and another example of Noct’s kind nature. 

Ignis had been alone in his apartment and desperately in need of relief after a stressful day of taking and studying for exams. Like most teenage men, his method of relief had been watching a video and jerking off. Unlike most teenage men, at least according to the harsh whispers of his worst fears, the subjects of his choice in videos had been other men, teenage and otherwise. He had just started one whose title was a pun even he thought was dreadful when Noct had burst in without knocking, babbling about a paper he had due that he’d completely forgotten about it. Ignis had been so startled that when he’d lunged to close the screen on his computer, he’d knocked the mouse clean off his desk.

So there he’d been, the video in full screen with Noctis standing at the door of his bedroom looking from it to Ignis. The quick thinking that had gotten Ignis through so much had died in his frantic mind. Not a single explanation had come to him.

But none had been needed. Noctis had shrugged and said, “So that’s why you don’t join in when we’re talking about girls. Prompto thought maybe you thought it was ‘uncouth’ or something. I think he’s afraid you were silently judging us.”

After that he’d asked if Ignis wanted to talk about it or get to work on the paper. The paper had been chosen that night and Noct had let it drop. On subsequent nights, Ignis had made different choices and had started out with brief comments that blossomed into full discussions . And later he had separate discussions with Gladio and Prompto that had only been possible due to how accepting and empathetic Noct had been.

He still kept his romantic life private to the point that his friends probably questioned if it existed but that wasn’t because of them. That was his own hang ups still in play. Hangs up that told him this was another thing Ravus did not need to know, despite how important it was to Ignis.

Instead, he offered a summation of his loyalty to Noctis. “He may have started as my prince, but he became my friend. He’s become my brother. How and why he became those to me is why he is my king.”

He half expected a cynical comment on the maudlin nature of what could justifiably be called a testimonial. But Ravus had asked and any explanation for devotion was bound to be dripping in sentiment. Ravus gave no comment at all though. Ignis could hear the flipping of pages indicating he’d gone back to reading. The flipping went too fast, even for skimming, and Ignis got the impression Ravus wasn’t reading a word.

“That’s not what you expected to hear? Or wanted to hear?” Ignis asked.

“I knew there must be some qualities in Noctis for Lunafreya and a man such as yourself to place so much faith in him.”

“Yet you don’t see yourself being able to have the same faith? You are here to help me save his life.”

“I’m here because as you pointed out, there is no real other place for me to be. I could return to Fenestala Manor and then do what? Stare at the sylleblossom fields knowing Lunafreya will never walk them again? Listen to the people lament the loss of the Oracle I could not save? This at least is a purpose, the one my sister wished for me, but faith is not something I’ve had much use for in a very long time.”

“You believed in your sister.”

“Not truly.” That came in an angry whisper. “I knew what she wanted, who she wanted and all I did was tell her she was wrong. So now I’m here without her, listening to your extol the virtues of your perfect prince.”

“Perfect? Noct?” Ignis laughed. “No, no. You asked me why I believed in him. If you want a list of his flaws, I can go over those as well but keep in mind the library closes in a few hours.”

“You would mock him?”

“We’re friends, so yes. Quite a bit. It’s all in jest, delivered with affection. You see, there’s an extremely vast area between perfect and ‘I hate everything you are’. You should try exploring it sometime. The four of us would be wonderful guides.”

Ravus’s laugh was a great deal more curt than Ignis’s. “I don’t think your comrades would appreciate you volunteering them for the task, especially given how well they received your first offer to me.”

He wasn’t wrong. Gladio certainly wasn’t going to be in a friendly mood anytime soon. Noctis wouldn’t be in the mood for anything soon. “All right, Prompto and I would make wonderful guides,” Ignis said. “You could at least try. Wouldn’t you rather be amongst some friends than associates of varying hostility?”

“I am called a traitor in my homeland and derided as an outsider in Niflheim. I am accustomed to animosity.”

“That’s...horribly depressing.”

Ravus didn’t seem to care. He suggested they get back to work. Ignis wanted to say something further but didn’t think Ravus was going to be receptive. Back to work they went, with nothing said but book titles, synopses, and rejections for all of them for the next hour.

With so little success, Ignis wondered if the older, juicier texts might be kept in the back. His theory was correct. Once they burrowed deeper in, Ravus came across a promising tome about the theorized origins of the Starscourge. He was hesitant to skim through it, describing it as ancient and the sort of book best handled by specialty gloves and a pair of tweezers.

That presented a new problem. They day and library hours were almost gone. “We don’t have the time to treat it with the care it deserves,” Ignis insisted. He was the kind of man who hated cracking the spine on a mass produced paperback but priorities were priorities.

“Are you certain of that? We could return tomorrow. Our departure does not seem imminent.”

“Noctis...he just needs time. He’ll be ready soon enough, just have patience.”

“I was only being realistic about our time here,” Ravus snapped. “I don’t begrudge him his grief.”

No, of course he didn’t. And it wasn’t because of the baby steps Ignis hoped he’d taken today towards understanding Noctis better. Ravus’s behavior had been stoic since leaving the Altar of the Tidemother, but it had been the complete opposite while at the Altar. Adding in his admission of why he’d come along with Ignis, it was clear his own grief wasn’t going to be worked through any faster than Noctis’s. 

“My apologies,” Ignis said. “I’ve focused so much on Noct’s mourning, I haven’t been very considerate of yours.”

“I don’t need your pity, Scientia.”

“You’re in luck then since I’m offering you compassion.”

Ravus bristled at this like he had at the suggestion that he try being friends with everyone. Ignis could have written it off as general jerkishness (and the Six knew Gladio would), but he thought it ran deeper than that. Kindness had likely been in short supply in Niflheim after Queen Sylva’s death. To one unaccustomed to it, sympathy could be awfully uncomfortable. Ignis wasn’t going to push it. Part of compassion was not forcing people to talk about what was bothering him. That was the whole point of the story he’d elected not to tell.

He hoped, with a strange fervency, that Ravus would change his mind as Ignis had changed his all those years ago. 

Another hour in the stacks and they’d found two more books and a barely legible scroll that might be of help. This brought up the issue of time again. Even if they stayed in Altissia indefinitely, sneaking down here and remaining undetected for hours on end wasn’t feasible. They’d been lucky today. Returning not just once, but day after day, would press that luck too far.

“We need to take these with us,” Ignis concluded.

“I assume you don’t mean to apply for a card and sign these out.”

“You’re going to have to read these to me, take notes, then read them and the notes back to me, then do that again and again. Imagine the late fees we’ll rack up with all the time that will take.”

“Imagine being caught stealing ancient and sacred texts from the Altissian government like a common thief.”

“You already have one government that wants to execute you. What’s another?”

As glib as he was being, Ignis was worried about the repercussions of being caught. There’d be a lot of explaining to do to Secretary Claustra and Noctis both. Claustra he could deal with. Noct...he wanted to avoid that at all costs. Stealing didn’t sit easy with him either. But he needed those books and if theft was the worst thing he’d have to do to save Noct, a thief he would be.

“Be careful with justifications,” Ravus said. “The more you make them, the easier they become, until there is nothing you cannot wave away.” 

It was a warning issued from experience. Ignis had to believe he’d heed it if such a moral horizon came. Stealing books just wasn’t that horizon.

He also had to believe that Ravus wasn’t as dismissive of his deeds as he claimed. Not anymore. He wouldn’t have bothered with a warning if he was.

They debated next on how to take the books. Ravus searched and there didn’t look to be any type of security on them. In the end, Ignis trusted the old adage that a purposeful person was an unsuspicious person. They’d conceal them under their clothing and walk out as if they were normal patrons. Or Ravus would conceal them. The fit of Ignis’s clothes was too tight for anything not to stick out. Ravus did have a coat.

“How convenient for you,” Ravus said. He also complained about the disrespect they were showing these texts but he let Ignis help him tuck them under his shirt so they wouldn’t inadvertently fall out right in front of a security guard while they were leaving. Ignis agreed, all the while suppressing a smile at how ludicrous this situation was.

If anybody noticed a blind man and a man with a prosthetic arm that happened to look exactly like the former high commander of the military force that had just attacked the city strutting out of the library, no one said anything. Their first foray into investigating the prophecy was a success. A somewhat dubious one, but Ignis, with Ravus’s warning fresh in his head, wasn't going to question it.


	4. How Ignis Got His Groove Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ravus + Cartanica = More Grumpiness. Just what Ignis needs as he deals with combat for the first time since he was blinded.

It was debatable who of their group had become the bigger hermit. Prompto lost that contest, no question. Their youngest member did all he could to recreate some sense of comradery. He could drag everyone sans Ravus into the common area for meals that consisted of Noct poking his food a few times with his fork and then not eating it, Gladio making increasingly pointed comments about getting the hell out of Altissia and Ignis dashing everybody’s hopes about his vision improving while mentally checking out to review the passages Ravus had read to him earlier. These meals weren’t their finest moments of friendship. 

This morning’s breakfast wasn’t an exception. Gladio started by loudly waving a map around to get their attention. “Found our first stop,” he announced. It was a royal tomb not that far off from the train station in Cartanica. “Supposed to be at the bottom of a quarry there.”

“Why are all these tombs in the weirdest places?” Prompto asked. “What’s wrong with a nice, centrally located cemetery?” 

“I guess Lucian kings are melodramatic,” Gladio answered. That didn’t even have a thin veneer of subtlety.

Noctis refused to take the bait. He also refused to sound the tiniest bit enthused. “Yeah, sounds good. We’ll go there once we leave.”

“And that will be when?”

“When we’re ready to go, Gladio.”

“And that will be when?”

With both of them in stubborn mode, this could go on awhile. Distracted as he had been, Ignis was still the strategist of the group. Going through the stolen texts was slow going and would get slower if not stop entirely with the limited space of a train car not giving them any privacy, but they should be trying to make some progress towards reclaiming the Crystal. Noctis stalling was one thing. Ignis stalling would be decidedly suspicious. Strategy time then.

“We should confirm and compile the reports of Nif activity from Secretary Claustra’s office. That would give us a sense of their movements and allow us to predict them somewhat. Whoever isn’t doing that can take stock of supplies, shore up what we need and if everything’s in the clear on the Imperial front, we book our train. Agreed?”

“About Secretary Claustra,” Prompto said. “She sent a note along with the food. It’s uh...very polite but also very hinty. I was going to wait until we were done eating but that mood’s been killed pretty good.” 

After Prompto dug the crumpled note out of his pocket and began reading from it, Ignis thought the tone of the note matched the tenor of their past few meals rather well. Prompto tried putting a friendly spin on it with a chipper delivery but translated from the language of diplomacy into blunt speech, the note said ‘It’s been three weeks. Get out.’

Gladio happily agreed. Ignis understood and couldn’t argue. Prompto kept going for the positive take, adding his own pitch about how good it would feel to get back to business with a little tomb raiding.

He was overselling it yet that was better than the massive undersell of Noctis muttering ‘yeah, sure, okay’ as his decision to go.

That was it then. They’d leave this city and all the terrible events and revelations that had come to them here behind. They’d collect one more royal arm and take another step closer to Noctis’s ultimate destiny.

And even though Ignis had pushed for this course of action, suddenly he was the one who couldn’t muster any appetite.

+++

It was said a picture was worth a thousand words. Since Prompto could no longer share his pictures with Ignis, he was doing what he could to describe the scenery on their train ride and coming in somewhere around that number. Ignis couldn’t be annoyed with him. Somebody was making the effort to be sociable at least. If Prompto hadn’t been talking, the entire ride would have gone by in silence.

Noctis, according to Prompto’s account, had been staring out the window since the train pulled out of the Altissian station. Gladio in turn, had been staring at Noctis. Ravus sat by himself in the section of seats across the aisle from them with his sword propped up between him and the window as a clear signal to other passengers to keep moving, these seats might be empty but they were still taken. Prompto added that the scowl on Ravus’s face was sending a similar, highly effective message. It was just as well. The book that Prompto said Ravus was reading sounded like one of the pilfered tomes from the Altissian library.

Eventually the occasional tree wasn’t enough to keep Prompto talking. The familiar background music of King’s Knight came on. It was either listen to that or the radio. The current program was a series of increasingly depressing interviews with various hunters about the lengthening night and a rise in daemon attacks. Ignis should have listened but with the current mood between the five of them falling in the oppressive range, hearing Prompto succeed in a mindless video game was more appealing.

There was an announcement over the PA system that they’d be arriving in Cartanica shortly followed by a list of the next stops. Prompto took note that Tenebrae was on the way. Ignis reminded him that they had the royal tomb to take care of first. When Prompto expressed concern whether he’d be up for it, Ignis was at first touched but then regretted it when this somehow devolved into Gladio yelling at Noctis about not stopping in Tenebrae and needing to grow up and get over it. This was punctuated by a book slamming against a table.

“If you wish for a dispassionate automaton to lead you, there are a number of magitek troopers in Gralea you may crown as your king.”

Prompto leaned in close to Ignis and whispered, “Did Ravus just defend Noct?”

He had. It was over Noct’s continued mourning of Lady Lunafreya but it was a defense. In other circumstances, it would have been touching. In this tension, Ignis feared escalation. The worst case scenario ended with a sword fight and lightning being flung around a small train car. Ignis didn’t think it probable it would get that bad but the odds weren’t as close to zero as he would have liked. Neither Gladio nor Ravus were the standing down types.

Gladio must not have had any concerns about making the situation worse. He snapped a warning at Ravus that this didn’t involve him and went straight back to yelling at Noctis. Before Ravus could respond, Noct flared back to life and snarled that he was here, wasn’t he?

That was not a satisfactory answer. Gladio tore further into Noct, faulting him for everything from not caring enough about Ignis’s injuries to keeping the Ring of Lucii in his pocket instead of wearing it like a real king would. Then the shoving and grabbing began. Prompto tried to stop it and got shoved by Gladio for the effort. The point Gladio was trying to make was pretty much gone at that point despite Noct insisting that he’d gotten it already. Gladio demanded that he prove it.

Noctis left instead. Prompto wanted to go after him but Gladio wouldn’t have it even as he turned to leave. In his anger, he accidentally backed into Ravus, who didn’t budge an inch. Ignis was, for once, grateful that he couldn’t see the looks that were surely exchanged between them.

Prompto slumped back into his seat. “We’re not normally like this,” he said. 

Presumably that was meant for Ravus, but honestly, it sounded more like he was looking for reassurance.

Ignis knew he could use some himself.

+++

Prompto gave only a bare bones description of Cartanica station. Food vendor there, arms dealer over there, here’s a bench. He couldn’t even muster much enthusiasm for the small cluster of chocobo chicks that were running about. That was worrisome.

His other comrades weren’t doing much to inspire Ignis either. Noctis was doing the usual aimless wandering he preferred to do whenever they reached someplace new. They weren’t aimless though. Gladio had gone to the dining car and stayed there. He could have eaten a ten course meal by now. Ignis had been tempted to join him until Ravus had commented that he wouldn’t be aggrieved if the train left the station with Gladio still on it.

There was no doubt Gladio and Noctis would eventually sort out their differences. They knew each other too well. Gladio’s style of tough love was high on the abrasive scale, higher than Ignis ever would have gone, but Noct had to know deep down it _was_ love. How long it would take to reach that point was up in the air. It wouldn’t come sooner with Ravus adding fuel to the fire.

He’d been rude about it, but Gladio was right; it really didn’t involve him even if the catalyst for all this was his sister’s death. The choice between eating greasy train food with a temporarily grumpy Gladio and finding ways to gently explain the non-involvement concept to an always grumpier Ravus wasn’t the best set of options he’d ever been presented with but the choice was clear. It would be for everyone’s benefit to convince Ravus to stay out of it.

The station was crowded enough that he had Prompto guide him over to the railing where Ravus was standing. The spot was supposed to be the best scenic view of the Fondina Caestino quarry they’d be heading to later. Both Ravus and Prompto told Ignis he wasn’t missing anything. Prompto took pictures anyway, introducing Ravus to radically foreign ideas such as the need to frame a shot and smiling. Ravus didn’t take to either. Sensing the lost cause, Prompto wandered off to find other photographic opportunities.

“He likes to document our journey,” Ignis said when Ravus questioned the constant camera usage. “We all have our niches in the group.”

“Advisor, shield and...court photographer? An odd combination.”

“More like mental support, physical support and emotional support for Noct. We all try on the last one, but Prompto seems to be the best at it.” Ignis wanted to use that as a means to segue into the topic at hand but Ravus already guessed where he was going.

“You wish me to say that Amicitia is clearly the worst at it and you will respond with a lecture to prove that this is false.”

“Am I that predictable?” Ignis asked. It was a tad strange that Ravus had called him out so accurately. 

“I’ve noticed certain patterns. Would you do me the kindness of making the lecture brief? As you can gather, I have little care for Amicitia.”

“Yes, I notice things too. I’ve have to blinder than I am not to. And possibly have a head injury. I doubt the two of you will ever get along well, but he didn’t say what he said to provoke you or to dismiss the tragedy of Lady Lunafreya’s death in any way.”

“‘Get over it’ is a dubious phrase.”

It was in this case, because Gladio hadn’t meant it quite the way Ravus was thinking. He knew why Gladio was pushing so hard and had the quote handy to show it. The quote's source wasn't going to be well received but that was as important as what it conveyed. He just had to hope Ravus could see the truth behind his explanation.

“He doesn’t mean for Noctis to forget,” Ignis said. “He only means Noctis cannot let himself shut down. King Regis always told Noctis _‘One cannot lead by standing still. A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back’_. Gladio took that advice to heart and wants to remind Noct of it. A king doesn’t have the luxury of indulging his grief.”

“How unsurprising Regis held a philosophy that discouraged reflection. Tell me how one accepts consequences if they refuse to examine what they truly were?”

Ignis shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Ravus might be softening towards Noctis but the king remained a deeply sore subject. He could argue that that phrase also didn't mean what Ravus thought it meant but he pictured a quick slide into a semantics argument and while Ignis normally crushed those, he’d never had one with Ravus. If he had to make a not so wild guess, the difficulty level on that particular battle would be higher than any previous one.

He should go with something he believed had a more solid foundation. “Will you trust me that despite his harsh words, Gladio means no disrespect? He has Noct’s best interests in mind. He’s...indelicate...in expressing that but nothing’s going to be served by you responding in kind. Please do me the favor again of trying not be provoked. Avoid aggression. It worked before.”

Ravus let out an annoyed sighed. It tited more toward resigned than resisting so Ignis was sure he had him. Ravus couldn’t let it go without some kind of fight. He muttered at Ignis if he would be having a discussion with Gladio to tone down his own aggression as well. In a way, Ignis would. That way would be saying Gladio’s name sharply to let him know he had crossed a line but old friends could get away with things like that.

Ignis wasn’t going to say that exactly so he promised to make sure that everyone would be on their best behavior in the quarry.

“You’re going to come with us?” Ignis nearly jumped at the sound of Prompto’s voice coming from behind him. He thought the younger man would be roaming around taking pictures until they departed.

Getting spooked by the sudden appearance of a good friend wasn’t a great sign for his combat readiness but Ignis was prepared to go. He actually hadn’t considered not going. Now that they were getting close to leaving, the doubts were creeping in. Navigating Altissia had had some difficulties and that had been done in broad daylight when Ravus had been able to see and steer him clear of obstacles. A dimly lit quarry wouldn’t provide the same opportunity. Also, there hadn’t been any daemons running around Altissia. Maybe working in some practice combat between the reading sessions with Ravus would have been a good idea. He could have gotten a sturdier cane for any possible daemon thwacking at least. Too late for any that now. His doubts abandoned creeping for a steady march.

He wouldn’t let them overtake him. He found an unexpected cheerleader in Ravus, who insisted Ignis would be fine. “You fight from range, don’t you?” Ravus asked Prompto. “If need be, he can remain away from the melee at your side.”

“Yeah, totally. I got your back, Iggy.”

“Who’s got what now?” That was Gladio, another surprise appearance. Ignis half expected Noct to warp in to really surprise the crap out of him. 

He tried scanning around the station but he couldn’t pick out a Noctis-shape to save his life. That wasn’t a confidence booster either.

Neither was listening to three men argue like he wasn’t there over whether he’d be able to walk around a quarry without grim death dogging his every step. Gladio was being overprotective, Prompto was over worried, and Ravus, while the support was welcome, was somewhere between over confident and being a contrarian to Gladio.

“I can speak for myself.” Ignis had meant for it to be commanding but his frustration made it a lot angrier than intended. It might not be fair, given his own doubts, but he wasn’t an invalid. It didn’t shut down the fight either; it just made it louder.

The quarrel attracted its share of onlookers and finally, Noctis. Apparently they had started a tradition of yelling at each other and Noct asking them what they were fighting about. 

“I think it’s too dangerous for Iggy to go down there,” Gladio said. “He thinks he’ll be okay. I guess it’s up to you, Your Highness, to make the call.”

There was a test in that, with the parameters for passing or failing hard to discern. Making a decision at all would be a positive with how apathetic Noct had been towards their journey. He suspected Gladio wanted Noct to veto taking him along. A true king puts the safety of his people over his own desires was his likely line of thought. Then again, the group ditching him in unfamiliar territory to fend for himself wasn’t a great move. If he vowed to watch over Ignis while in the quarry, that should score a few points higher.

Honestly, Ignis couldn’t say which way he wanted Noct to go. Doubts and pride were in a tangle. His place had alway been at his prince's side but if he was going to hinder Noct more than help, his place switched to sitting down and staying out of the way. He should not be feeling any relief at that prospect.

Noct’s response was similarly muddled. “If he thinks he can do it, we’ll take him with us,” he mumbled. 

That was...not the best. Ignis would have given it a ‘C-’. He was sure Gladio’s score was an ‘F’, the kind written in thick red ink with a circle around it to highlight just how badly you failed.

Prompto didn’t know what to make of it too. “So Iggy’s coming? Or?”

“I’m going with you.” Someone should be definitive. The doubts were lingering but Ignis could make them shut up. Possibly. Hopefully.

+++

They were a little over fifty steps away from the elevator and the flood lights along its rigging when Ignis started to fear that this was going to harder than he initially thought, possibly too hard. Even with everyone turning up the brightness on their flashlights, it was so dark, he could barely discern one splotch of darkness from the other. The shapes he’d come to associate with his friends were blurring into a field of black.

The one thing he’d been right about was the scent of daemons. He detected that feint stench of decay from the Scourge in the air. They weren’t nearby but they were here. Combat was going to be unavoidable.

“No worries,” Prompto said when Ignis mentioned the oncoming threat. “Stick beside me and I’ve got you covered.”

Gladio revised the plan. “We all stick together period. We’ll go as slow as you need us to, Iggy. Everybody.”

The last word was a shout, a bit too loud considering they weren’t alone down here but somewhat necessary because Noct sounded a decent distance away when he called back that he was scouting ahead.

Walking was a slog. The ground was mostly dirt and loose gravel and the others described steep ledges with fencing that was in poor shape or outright non-existent. Ignis’s sight had adjusted a little to the increased darkness to where he could pick out everyone’s locations if he focused. Noctis stayed in the lead of the group while Gladio trailed behind him barking orders to slow down and giving less than flattering comments on the nature of the sort of person who wouldn’t listen to those orders. Tough love upgraded to merciless love.

Prompto, true to his word, stayed within two to three inches from Ignis. That was too close. He got a cane to the foot by accident a couple of times due to the proximity but he didn’t complain or move further away. Ravus brought up the rear. Ignis thought it strange that Gladio wasn’t complaining about him being in such a tactically crucial position with darkness and daemons all around. Yelling at Noctis must have been more important.

Yelling quieted down into snippy comments. Chastising Noct for being reckless lost its moral authority when delivered in a daemon attracting shout. Prompto continued his role in describing the environment to Ignis. Once more, he ran out of things to say because ‘quarry big, terrain hilly and narrow’ covered pretty much everything. There was some piece of machinery in the center that the group was using as a guidepost. They were more or less moving in circles, downward in circles, which is where they needed to go, but it made the trip tedious.

Prompto, bless him, tried to get a conversation going. “Those chocobo chicks at the station were pretty cute, huh?”

Ignis, the only one inclined to respond, wouldn’t really quantify small, fast moving blobs as cute and he didn’t think pointing that out would achieve the effect Prompto was going for. The other three ignored the question.

“ _I want to ride my chocobo all day…_ ” The melody was jittery, his voice quiet; he was singing out of nerves rather than inspiration from the chicks. He didn’t even get the teasing groans that were the usual response to the song.

Perhaps that’s why he repeated it so soon.

“Again?” Ravus asked from behind them.

“Sorry, it’s just such a catchy song.”

“Can it really be considered a song if it’s a singular lyric reiterated incessantly?”

“So you’re saying I need to add more lyrics?”

“No,” Gladio answered for Ravus. “That’s not what he’s saying at all.” It wasn’t a complaint about Noctis but it wasn’t a return to friendly form either.

“Actually,” Ravus started and Ignis flinched. Nothing good had ever followed the word ‘actually’ being said in that tone of voice. This was not an exception.

“If he wishes to do proper homage, additional lyrics would be appropriate.”

“Nobody wants to hear a frickin’ ode to a chocobo.”

“I do,” Prompto mumbled in contradiction to Gladio.

There were others that disagreed, as Ravus was happy to explain. “They may have fallen out of favor as a subject matter, but in agrarian societies before modern technology, the chocobo was a central component of people’s livelihoods and thus, their art. The third century poet, Gallinaceus, achieved great fame espousing their virtues.”

Ignis blamed himself. He had told Ravus not to be aggressive. He hadn’t said anything about passive aggressive.

“I am not having this discussion,” Gladio declared. “We are not wasting time on this.” He stomped off towards Noctis, who hadn’t stopped for the chocobo chat and was getting further and further ahead. As another lecture on the virtues of a slow and steady pace began, Ignis’s appreciation for inane chocobo trivia grew.

Prompto was all about it too. “This Galli-whoever, what kind of poems are we talking about?”

Ravus sucked in his breath as if realizing he hadn’t thought this through. Something told Ignis that the proper ex-commander disliked chocobo odes every bit as much as Gladio but with Prompto’s interest piqued, he was going to hear a whole bunch about them. It could prove to be decent distraction from the snippiness and all oppressive darkness.

“I’m curious as well,” Ignis teased. “I can’t say I’m familiar with his work. Can you give us an example?”

Ravus was very deliberate with his words. More deliberate. This _was_ Ravus. “His works were more renowned for their...accessibility to the public over their artistic merit.”

“Perfect for a jaunty little song then,” Ignis concluded.

“But alas, not studied in serious literary analysis and thus forgotten.”

“You’ve heard of the guy though,” Prompto said. “You must have read some of his stuff.”

Ravus claimed he hadn’t in a tone that conveyed that he had, he knew they knew he had, but they weren’t going to get a recitation of a single verse so they really ought to drop it. 

He had an odd supporter in Gladio, who couldn’t believe they were still yammering about chocobos. They’d caught up to him and Noctis (and Ignis had to wonder if Gladio had dragged the prince here by the scruff of his neck to get him to stop ranging so far ahead) at a fork in the road. Noct thought there was a haven at the end of the path on the left. The one on the right he described as a huge drop off headed straight towards the bottom.

“Let me guess,” Prompto asked, “the big hole is where we need to go?”

“I said the tomb was at the bottom,” Gladio pointed out. Ignis expected him to have them march off post haste but he was willing to stop at the haven. “How you holding up, Iggy?” he added.

The poor, blind Ignis thing again. That’s not how Gladio meant it but it was hard for Ignis not to take it that way since he knew there was truth to it. He’d almost been able to forget how on edge he’d been when they’d first entered while he was picking at Ravus. They hadn’t encountered any monsters or daemons yet but it would be foolish to think they could make it all the way to the tomb without that changing. Staying at the haven would only delay the inevitable.

Facing your fears was supposed to be a great, empowering thing. It was the advice he would give to others. So on top of being a coward, he would also be a hypocrite. Objectively, he knew that was too harsh by half. He still felt the need to push himself.

“I’m fine,” Ignis said. “I think we should make for the tomb. We can stay at the haven on our way back up if need be.”

Gladio began to say something then reconsidered. Coddling Ignis while getting on Noct’s case were two separate things but not so far apart to avoid being hypocrisy adjacent as well.

They set off again, resuming their positions. With the greater slope, a slog became a trudge for Ignis. Prompto kept him apprised of the surroundings. This included going ahead to kick some rocks out of the way after he told Ignis to stand still. While he dutifully waited, Ravus drew up alongside him.

“If you’re trying to prove yourself by attempting something you’re not ready to achieve, you’re setting yourself up for failure instead,” Ravus cautioned.

“I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

“Through the easy part? Yes. Greater difficulty is awaiting.”

Lovely. Ravus was trying to coddle him too. “You know, despite how poorly you and Gladio get along you sound, well, you don’t sound anything at all like him since he’d never talk like you, but you do make an awfully lot of the same points.”

“If you think that will encourage me to encourage you to be reckless, you should reconsider that as well.”

“Really sharp bend up ahead,” Prompto called back. “Hardy any fence in this section too. Go real slow.”

Ignis intended to listen. He stepped away from Ravus too abruptly though and put a foot down on a loose patch of gravel that he would have felt out with his cane if he’d used it. In a second, he felt his leg sliding out from underneath him and he had a vision of tumbling straight for a fenceless portion of the path and right off the side.

He never got that far. Before he even hit the ground, he felt the metal of Ravus’s magitek arm wrap around his chest and lift him up and back. Ravus had pulled him close against him, the better to help him get his footing, and Ignis was struck by the odd juxtaposition between the coldness of the protesthic and the warmth of the rest of Ravus’s body.

“I gather any boasting for being correct is unnecessary,” Ravus whispered hotly in his ear.

It was embarrassment that caused the heat to rise in Ignis’s cheeks, surely. He’d made an ass of himself in a potentially fatal manner all out of a desire to prove something no one else expected of him. Facing his fears was all well and good but he didn’t have to be a fool rushing in about it.

“On second thought,” Ignis said, “caution does sound wise.”

Ravus let him go. Ignis had dropped his cane during his slip up and he almost didn’t want to have to ask for help getting it back. Ravus did him a second kindness by pressing it gently back into his hand. Back to business then. This pathetic mess could be completely forgotten provided no one else had seen it.

Which naturally meant that Prompto had witnessed the whole thing. He was all apologies for leaving Ignis’s side with bouts of gratitude towards Ravus for keeping an Ignis shaped splat off the bottom of the quarry. It wasn’t the greatest boost to Ignis’s confidence no matter how well intentioned it was. 

They made it around the tricky curve without further disaster. That was when it hit him. The acrid scent of the Scourge that had been lingering in the background had moved to the fore. “Daemons,” he announced. “Very close.”

“Cool,” Prompto said. “So that stuff about blind people developing super senses is true?”

It was more like since he’d lost his sight he had to pay greater attention to what senses he had left. Ignis couldn’t afford to ignore any stray sound or odor. He shouldn’t have before really as they’d heard from the hunters they’d spoken with, but now he had no choice.

The battle came soon enough. There weren’t many of them as Prompto recounted to Ignis. They didn’t look that tough either. Ignis got the distinct feeling Prompto was telling him this to keep him from worrying about how they’d do in combat without him instead of encouraging him to join in.

There was a temptation. An easy encounter would be the best time to test how he might fare in combat. Ignis had nearly called his daggers forth out of instinct when the first daemon appeared. Nearly, but his jangled nerves brought up the memories of Ravus’s comments about accidental stabbings, the cane pokes Prompto had already gotten and the near fall. He thought of switching to a pole arm and using it purely for defense, but again, cane pokes. Ignis would never forgive himself if Prompto got the business end of a lance in the foot or anywhere else.

In his indecision, Gladio made the choice for him by instructing him to stay back. He also told Prompto to keep guard over Ignis. It was an unnecessary command if there ever was one. In their old battles, Prompto had switched back and forth between distance and close up attacks, usually setting aside his guns for one of the Magitek weapons they’d looted from a fallen MT. This time he stayed rooted to his spot next to Ignis, only taking a step or two to line up a shot before reverting back to his original position. As a consequence, he took a lot less shots.

The difference was made up by Ravus. Ignis felt him rush past. There was a flare of brightness in Ignis’s vision as he cast lighting at the daemons. It was followed by Prompto shouting ‘what the crap was that?’ and Gladio expressing similar confusion.

“Didn’t I tell you he could do that?” Ignis asked.

“Shoot purple lightning at daemons? No, you did not!”

The rest of the fight was lightning free and over quickly. Prompto gave his usual victory whoop. Ravus went to resume his post at rearguard but was stopped by Gladio.

“Next time, give us a heads up on any weird shit you can do,” Gladio said. “Not bad though,” he added after a pause.

That was an actual compliment. No one spoke or moved from the shock of it until Prompto whispered, “Just say thank you.”

Shock number two, Ravus took the advice.

Gladio wasn’t as kind to Noctis, leaving Ignis to think the Ravus compliment was delivered to create a greater distinction to the Noctis reprimand. “I thought you might use your new sword.”

“I’m not wasting the Royal Arms on scrubs,” Noctis huffed back.

“You don’t even want to try it? You’re just going to tuck it away like the Ring?”

“Using them takes a lot out of me.” Now Noct was practically snarling.

“And we wouldn’t want His Highness making too much of an effort, would we?”

Prompto mumbled a wish for more daemons to fight. “Better than fighting each other.”

Ignis would have agreed but his uselessness in the fight was eating at him. Really, he was worse than useless because he’d hobbled Prompto in the process. Again, no one but him was complaining. Staying put and safe was exactly what they’d wanted from him. They didn’t expect anything more from him either.

They’d only rested for a minutes when another pack of daemons appeared. Once more, the instinct to reach for a knife was there. Once more, it was set aside by doubt and his friends insisting on him keeping out of the fight in a way that was easy to take as meaning he wasn’t needed. Because he wasn’t. Ravus was making up the difference just as Ignis had promised when making the pitch to have their former enemy join them. Everything was as Ignis had anticipated. There should be some relief in that.

That was thing about anticipation though. Thinking on what could be coming was different than living it when it came. He’d known he’d have difficulties in combat. He just hadn’t expected to feel so pathetic about it. All the logic in the world wasn’t a match for having to apologize for throwing off Prompto’s aim because he’d inadvertently bumped into him when merely trying to turn a little.

There wasn’t much point in turning anyway. Fights moved too quickly to get a read on what shapes were there let alone figuring out what they were doing. Some of those daemons were quick little bastards. Then again, Gladio, so deliberate in swinging those ridiculously huge swords of his, wasn’t that easy to track. 

After a third and fourth skirmish that Ignis spent telling himself not to move until he was given the all clear, he wished he stayed back at the train station. Sitting on bench while everybody else went adventuring had to be less humiliating than this. And he wouldn’t have to listen to Gladio and Noctis picking at each other.

They were still bickering, this time over what to do about a piece of machinery that was blocking the path forward. They had to move it, but could only do that after getting power to it. Though Noct was taking the obvious steps towards getting the quarry’s generator going, he apparently wasn’t doing it as quickly and with as much as enthusiasm as Gladio wanted him to have.

Prompto made a few nervous attempts to lighten the mood. He even tried to revive the chocobo song conversation with Ravus.

Ravus wasn’t eager to comply. “Are you certain you wish to test Amicitia’s patience? You’ll have him complaining you’re not breathing correctly soon enough.”

“Yeah, he’s, uh...a little cranky, but that’s just pushing Noct stuff. Not a big believer in going easy on people. Even himself.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Prompto snickered, but Ignis bristled. This was verging near the precise territory Ignis told Ravus to steer clear of. “Can we focus on the task at hand?” Ignis sighed. “Sniping at each other isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Um, are we really the two you should be lecturing?” Prompto asked but he agreed to shelve any chocobo talking or singing. As long as they were in the quarry anyway.

Ravus hardly needed prodding to drop that line of conversation. The line he wanted to pursue wasn’t an improvement for Ignis though. “The battles are growing more difficult as we go deeper down. I could not help but notice your unease during them seems to grow as well.”

“Yes, well, blind man among murderous daemons and all that.”

Prompto reiterated his promise to protect him. Ravus had another idea. “It wouldn’t take much time to backtrack towards the haven. You could wait for us there.”

It was a sound idea. Ignis rejected it out of hand. “I’ll not waste any more of our time.” Sitting alone in a haven was a surrender he wasn’t ready to make. All his life he’d been trained and prepared to make himself useful. He was the one who was supposed to lend advice and a helping hand. “Getting acclimated to my new situation might be more difficult than I thought it would be but I have to try. Better to learn now if I can’t succeed than when we’re in Gralea and knee deep in Magitek troopers.”

“True enough, but combat is not the only way you serve your king. Why force yourself to perform an unnecessary task when your talents can be applied elsewhere?”

“Don’t think Noct really needs lessons on which fork to use or the proper way to address fancy people right now,” Prompto said. 

That wasn’t what Ravus was referring to but neither he nor Ignis was going to correct him. Ignis couldn’t correct Ravus. He’d shoved the prophecy aside for his own worries since they’d arrived but it should be his highest priority. As good as he had been in a fight, Ignis’s real value to Noctis was supposed to be his intellect. Brains over brawn as he’d always joked to Gladio. What was he trying prove here and to whom?

Ignis feared the answers were more selfish in nature than he wanted to admit. He also believed that he needed to get them to put his mind at ease before he could put it to use for higher tasks. He would go on.

Daemons of greater power did fester in the darker depths of the mine. Keeping out of the way became more vital and difficult as Prompto needed a greater range of movement to get in the good shots. Ignis kept trying to follow the flow of the fights, a chore made a touch easier by the ample amount of lightning Ravus was using illuminating the battlefield. Maybe that was the solution. He could get Noctis to put a high powered spotlight in his armiger that Ignis could lug out during fights to help him discern shapes.

Through daemon attacks, inconveniently placed broken down mining equipment, bickering, and terrible lighting, they finally made it down to the lowest part of the quarry. The stench coming from the area hit the entire group like a wall. It didn’t read as a daemon and there was a particular scent that was part of the foulness that Ignis felt he ought to be able to place. Before they’d left Insomnia, he’d read every hunter’s guide he could get ahold of about the possible monsters and daemons they could possibly come across in their roadtrip. He’d learned telltale signs in the terrain that a creature was nearby, noises made, how other animals responded to predators, and, for a few notable beasts, the special smells they emitted. There was tang of rotted meat mixed in with something almost floral.

Prompto yelled 'holy shit, it's huge!' just as Ignis mentally placed it. A marlboro.

He got confirmation from Gladio, who was ordering everybody to get their guard up. He told Ignis to stay away.

“Oh my god, it has babies!” Prompto sounded as if he thought they were cute. After a minute of shooting the precious sprouts, he changed his mind and was calling them evil little bastards and demanding to know where the hell they were all coming from.

Prompto wasn’t alone in his frustration. No matter how many of the smaller marlboros were torn apart and how often Gladio and Noctis proclaimed they’d gotten a good hit in on the large one, nobody was making any progress. The momma marlboro wouldn’t die and her offspring were an endless swarm.

The hunters hadn’t written a whole lot on marlboros. You had to survive an encounter with one to document how that fight had gone. As a result, most of the advice boiled down to ‘run the hell away as fast as you can’. That wasn’t an option here. They needed access to the tomb.

There had been a tip to use fire. It couldn’t burn a tentacle off as they regenerated faster than flame could eat through the tough hide but it would force the marlboro retreat for a little while. Maybe they could fire bomb the thing until it backed off enough to allow Noct to slip into the tomb. It was a pity a marlboro didn’t have any apparent weak spots. The thing was all tentacles, rock hard carapace and a giant mouth filled with sharp teeth.

That was it. The giant mouth. Fire couldn’t do enough damage when applied from the outside to kill it but a bomb going off internally? Ignis didn’t think he was up to making a precision strike, but tossing a small flask into a gaping maw didn’t require that level of accuracy. His target wasn’t even hard to make out. It was the pitch black void in the middle of a writhing mass of slightly brighter darkness.

The marlboro and its mini-mes didn’t pay any attention to Ignis. He was the only thing not trying to kill it at the moment. In the next moment…

Ignis called forth the flask from Noct’s armiger and let his instincts take over. He couldn’t see the the flask in motion nor where it landed. He certainly heard it when it broke and fire erupted from within the marlboro. There was anguished screaming from the beast and cheering from his comrades. Then came the sound of weapons hitting their mark and more cheering as they at last had the desired effect. One very dead marlboro later, Prompto practically mugged Ignis in his haste to congratulate him.

Ever the humble sort, Ignis took that compliment and others from Gladio and Noctis in a matter-of-fact stride. It was an act. On the inside, he was nearly giddy with relief that he’d been able to not only help, but come through with the decisive move. He might not have his eyes, but his brain was working just fine and if that was enough to beat a creature as fearsome as a marlboro, he could find a way to contribute in any future combat. He could still serve.

Noctis went into the tomb. Gladio followed, likely to gauge how Noct reacted to collecting the last known Royal Arm. Prompto went in too, likely to gauge how Gladio and Noct were getting along. Ravus lingered near Ignis.

“You must be relieved,” Ravus said.

“That we all weren’t eaten by a marlboro? Certainly.”

“That you were the one who was key to our victory.” He'd nailed it again. Before Ignis could ask him how he knew, Ravus explained, “I’m familiar with the frustration of wanting to help but being unable. It’s fortunate in this instance that you could.”

“Are you implying that won’t be the case in additional instances? And here I was beginning to regain my confidence.”

“Ignis,” Ravus said softly. “This is the final Royal Arm Noctis is to collect, is it not? How much time do we actually have to complete our true mission?”

It was a valid question. Ignis should have an honest answer for it but hope and denial had combined to keep him from contemplating any response other than ‘enough’. Time to apply logic to it. “Noct isn’t ready. You said the Ring and the Crystal were part of the prophecy and he hasn’t even put on the Ring yet, let alone master it. The Crystal remains in Gralea. We need to retrieve it before we can figure out what to do with it. He’s grown powerful and earned the Astrals’ blessings but he has further to go.” There, nice and sound reasoning delivered with only a squeak of desperation.

Ravus charitably ignored the squeak and placated him with vague agreements. Nothing further was said as Noct came out of the tomb. Not by anybody. They trekked back up the way they'd come in silence, bypassing the haven in the name of getting the hell out of there. They could sleep on the train. 

Night had already fallen by the time they exited the quarry. Prompto muttered that he didn’t think they’d spent that much time down there and checked the time on his phone. It had gotten dark early. Ignis would be paying more attention to the hunters’ radio programs from now on.

There was a more pressing concern to address. As impressed as everybody had been with the defeat of the marlboro, Gladio remained wary about Ignis continuing on with them. Ignis could hear the conflict is his voice, but Gladio’s duty as Noctis’s shield took precedence over any bond of friendship. Ignis respected that but he disagreed, to a point. Decisiveness had served him in the quarry; he had to keep at it. Ignis announced he would continue on. If he became a liability, he would bow out. Simple as that.

Noctis was fine with that, signaling everyone else should be. He did have one request. He wanted to stop in Tenebrae.

Ravus quickly seconded it. “I, too, wish to stop there. The staff of Fenestala Manor deserve to hear the truth of what happened to Lunafreya. They were all very devoted to her.”

Gladio had to know how any objection to that would come off. He relented without a fight. “If it helps everyone move on.”

That was hard to tell. Being back in Tenebrae might make both Noct’s and Ravus’s grief more acute. They had to go regardless. The thought that they might be on a tighter timeline than Ignis had contemplated made him anxious to get to the texts that were in Fenestala Manor’s library. He didn’t want to push either of them, but his own duty, much like Gladio’s, might call for it, especially Ravus.

Like everything else in Ignis’s life, he’d find a way to be ready for it if he needed to.


	5. Throw Prompto from the Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or maybe keep Prompto on the train? We'll see. Meanwhile, Ignis tries not to realize something.

The train wasn’t as packed as it had been on the last leg to Tenebrae. This let the four of them spread out a bit while their fifth member kept his usual booth all to himself. Tensions had eased considerably since leaving the quarry. Ignis had settled any qualms about his continued presence. Gladio and Noctis had called a truce on their snipefest. They weren’t quite back to buddy-buddy form but nobody was lecturing or angry pouting. Ravus was...still Ravus but Gladio had taken to ignoring him, Noctis basically avoided him and Prompto actually seemed fine with him. Progress on all fronts.

Noct’s mood had improved enough that he went with Prompto to roam the train and take photos. Prompto had dreamed up some notion about a photographic essay of train trips. Noct didn’t seem too sure how this differed from the usual take pictures of everything modus operandi, and neither did Ignis, but any excuse to get up and move around was a good excuse. 

Ignis decided to take this time to speak with Gladio. He wanted to make sure the hatchet was truly buried with Noctis instead of merely dropped to the ground and ready to be picked up again. There was no telling how Noct would react to being in Tenebrae again. A resumption of his detached attitude might be considered a violation of the truce. Better to talk things out with Gladio now before that happened. And honestly, he just wanted to talk to his friend as a friend. They hadn’t been able to do that since the debacle at Altissia.

Gladio welcomed the company. “Finished the book I was reading and forgot to pick up a new one. I’d ask to borrow one from our new buddy but one, I’d have to talk to him and two, it looks like he’s been reading some really weird shit.”

Ignis knew exactly what Ravus had been reading and steered clear of any talk of it. “Well, I’m happy I can be your second choice for entertainment.”

“Third. I was just about to head up to the dining car.”

Ignis feigned indignation at the slight, which spurred Gladio on to imagine the greasy mess he was going to order. The fantasy meal would wipe out a whole sty of pigs.

Ignis shuddered. “I thought you took better care of yourself than that.” Typically he did. Other than a weakness for cheap ramen, Gladio was a lean protein sort of guy. Ignis had certainly preferred preparing meals geared towards his palate compared to Noct’s picky tastes. Thinking on it, he found it strange. As much as he’d done it and taken pride in what he’d made, Ignis had never had a true fondness for cooking yet he found he missed it. There’d been a satisfaction in putting all the ingredients together and watching his friends enjoy the results. Pouring boiling water in a cup of the damn ramen would be a tricky task now. Forget about the watching part.

“Jeez, I was just kidding,” Gladio said, breaking Ignis’s reverie. “Didn’t mean to bum you out. I’ll stay.”

“It’s not you.” Ignis gestured towards his eyes. “For all my boasts, I’m still processing the adjustments.”

“Look, I’m sorry for getting on your case about quitting back at the quarry. I gotta look at the big picture here and if I’ve got to be the asshole to get shit done, then, well, I’m guessing you remember how me and Noct were acting.”

“I’m blind, not deaf.”

“I don’t like being the hardass,” Gladio insisted. “You know how much I want to be sitting around a campfire right now sharing beers with all you guys? Sharing with you, I mean. We’d have fruit punch for the junior league.”

It was obvious that Gladio’s vision of a better time was for a party of four, not five. Ignis let it slide. He wouldn’t mind an easy night under the stars either. He had to settle for an easy time on the train. “Be fair,” he said. “I believe Noctis and Prompto are fully capable of handling a glass of wine, provided they drink it slowly over the course of several hours.”

“And they shared it,” Gladio laughed. “You remember how shit faced they got at my last birthday party? I didn’t even have that much booze there! Prompto, I get. He’s 140 soaking wet with a brick in his hand. Noct, though. Not sure what his excuse is for being such a lightweight.”

Ignis smiled at the memory. It hadn’t been that wild of a party considering both of Gladio’s parents and little sister had been there. Clarus Amicitia had indulged in some whiskey but that had been the hardest liquor there and he hadn’t shared, not even with his son, the birthday boy. Yet at the end of the party, Ignis and Gladio had found their friends tucked in a corner, giggling like idiots and about five sheets past three to the wind. After they’d witnessed several of their failed attempts at standing and walking, Ignis had agreed to escort Prompto home while Gladio had taken care of Noct.

“The elevator was out at Noct’s place,” Gladio recalled. “We went up one whole floor before he started whining about being tired and laid down on the steps. Just sprawled right out. Had to carry him up ten flights of stairs all while chanting ‘don’t puke on me, don’t puke on me’. Happy birthday to me, huh?”

“You never told me that part of the story.”

“I told Noct I wouldn’t ‘cause he was embarrassed but I might still be a little ticked off at him and he isn’t around anyway.”

Ignis swore he wouldn’t tell. Laugh about it to himself, yes, and maybe create a private joke between him and Gladio, but no telling Noct. Not that Gladio would’ve cared. This was the most relaxed he’d been in weeks. There were few more effective balms for stressful times than having a laugh over better days. Noctis and Gladio would be having their own similar conversations soon enough. Ignis assured Gladio of this.

“I hate seeing him like this,” Gladio admitted. “As a friend, I get it. I know how damn happy he would get whenever Umbra showed up. He’d go for that book like a kid opening a present. You made that archive for him of all her public speeches. Despite everything about Altissia screaming that it was a trap, he was happy to walk into it because he finally had a chance to see her again. I know he’s hurting and I get it and I want to console him, but-”

“As his shield…”

“Yeah, as his shield, I can’t. We all lost people when Insomnia fell. I still think about my old man and the last time I saw him and...hell, he’ll come back as a ghost to haunt my ass if ever let myself start to wallow. And Noct’s got to be better than me. I’m protecting one man. He’s got the whole fucking world on his shoulders now.”

Gladio sounded as if he had no shortage of weight on his own. He was right, though, about Noctis, and Gladio didn’t know the half of it. “Have you considered telling Noct all this? You’ve stopped fighting but the issue remains. Maybe everybody being on the same page as we head into the heart of enemy territory might be a good thing.”

“It would,” Gladio admitted. “But I can only push Noct the way he needs to go. He needs to get there himself. Part of that is deciding on his own to take the first damn step.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown and all that. Bit heavy on the feet too, I suppose. Makes it hard to get moving.”

It was a weak joke and one Gladio wasn’t having. “That twiggy thing? Can’t weigh anything. It’s the Ring that’s heavy.”

Ignis had walked right into that but at least he’d sussed out that Gladio wasn’t entirely buying Noctis’s rededication to the cause. By putting it off as Noctis had, wearing the Ring of the Lucii had become _a thing_. The Ring held terrible power, as Ignis well knew, and would, over the course of years, drain the life of its bearer, but the rightful king of Lucis shouldn’t fear it. But for Noct, it wasn’t so much what the Ring would do to him as what it had done to everybody else. It was the weight of expectation and of proving worthy of the faith his father, Lady Lunafreya and so many more had put in him.

“I get that too,” Gladio said after Ignis explained it. “Once he puts it on, it’s on. This sleepwalking he’s been doing since Altissia won’t cut it. You lost your sight for him. Luna died for him. The day might come when one or all of us might die for him too. I need to know that those sacrifices won’t break him but spur him on to finish his fight.”

There was that word again. _Sacrifice._. The voice from the prophecy replayed in Ignis’s head. For the prophecy to be fulfilled, Noctis would have to learn the lesson Gladio described. He doubted Gladio would see the silver lining in that. Ignis couldn’t.

“He’ll do what he has to do,” Ignis said. “When the time comes, he’ll find his way.” And after that, Ignis had to find a different way for him to follow.

+++

A grumbling stomach eventually drove Gladio to the dining car. Ignis promised he’d follow but there was one more traveling companion he should speak to before they arrived at Tenebrae. As unpredictable as Noct’s moods could be, Ravus’s were worse. The man idled at a cranky sort of stoicism but Ignis had witnessed mood swings from lethal anger to complete vulnerability - and he’d hit that full range in a matter of minutes on the Altar. Seeing his home for the first time since his sister’s death wasn’t going to be easy for him. The question was would it become hard for the group.

That was the question the Royal Advisor was concerned with. Ignis had a different set of worries.

In contrast to Noct’s wearing of his heart on his sleeve, Ravus had been at that same cranky stoicism level since Altissia. There’d been the occasional flare of emotion such as his snarled defense of Noct’s grief but a Psych 101 student could point out the repression. He wasn’t expecting a teary confessional. He did believe that they’d developed a good enough working relationship that Ignis could make an offer of a sympathetic shoulder to lean on without being told to go hell. He’d sort of opened that door during the talk in the library. Creaking it open a teensy bit further should be safe.

The hesitant bird doesn’t get the worm though. Ravus spoke before Ignis had the chance to. “I trust your conversation with Amicitia did little to alleviate your worries.”

“You were eavesdropping?”

“We’re confined in a metal traincar and he has a voice that would carry in a thunderstorm.”

“True, comes in handy when you’re in a crowd. His father’s voice was even deeper. He could clear his throat just so and from a mile away, you’d know you were in trouble.” That wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Once, when they’d been in their mid-teens, he and Gladio had made plans to go to a concert outside of Insomnia. Gladio had gotten the tickets off a school friend and had brought them to the Citadel to show them off to Ignis. Somehow, someway, the elder Amicitia had gotten wind of it and Gladio hadn’t even gotten the tickets out of his pocket when a cough informed them that this was never, ever going to happen.

Ravus’s memories were of a decidedly different event. “I know. I met him when I was in Insomnia.”

He didn’t volunteer any more information and it wasn’t a mystery why. He’d gone to Insomnia for the signing ceremony. That was a subject matter Ignis had deliberately avoided and not out of politeness. He really didn’t want to know the full extent of Ravus’s involvement in Insomnia’s fall, especially if it included the deaths of anyone he had known. He told himself it was pragmatic but a voice in his head shot back the word ‘cowardly’. Ignis knew which one was right.

He couldn’t put off confronting it and everything else Ravus had done for Niflheim forever. Reasons for delaying it came to him easily, most of them having a tinge of disingenuousness. Everyone knew the gist already; getting details would only foster hostility. Pushing Ravus on his past could make him uncooperative in the present. The rest were variations on those themes. One surprising, but probably the most honest, excuse managed to creep in: Ignis didn’t want to see the person he saw Ravus as now tarnished by the person he had been then. 

Why that was so was a thread he didn’t care to pick at.

Perhaps he should, delicately and mainly to give Gladio that peace of mind of knowing the truth of his father’s death. And to prove some vague point he felt he should be making even if he couldn’t say what it was.

Ignis took it slow. “I don’t suppose you know what happened to Clarus...I mean how he died.”

One of Ravus’s trademark silences gave Ignis the impression that he did know. Worse, that he’d been there. Ignis prayed it didn’t mean he was part of it. Or part of it beyond being with Niflheim.

“Glauca killed him,” Ravus finally said and Ignis at once felt relief and a sharp sting of of betrayal. “He comported himself well defending Regis. Amicitia would be proud. But Glauca was never easily deterred from his goal. Curious, isn’t it?” he added after another long pause and there was a genuine note of dolefulness in his contemplation. “That we all would have that in common, Amicitia, Noctis and I.”

_Noctis too?_ None of them, even Cor, had known how King Regis had died, only that he had. There’d been a suspicion that Ignis had never given voice to - Ravus had to have gotten that sword somehow - and he felt a greater relief that he could dismiss it.

“It’s a dark bond to share,” Ignis replied. He doubted any of the three men would find any solace in it, though hearing Ravus name Glauca as his mother’s killer was better than his usual assignment of the blame to Regis. But Ravus clearly knowing who had struck down the previous Oracle made his service to Niflheim that much more baffling. How could he have stood working alongside his mother’s killer? Ignis broached the subject with a few more ums and pauses than when he’d asked about Clarus.

“Thankfully, I rarely saw him. Glauca’s station in Insomnia was of the highest priority and he seldom came to Gralea.”

What was fortunate for Ravus had been a source of shock and rage and despondency to the four of them when Cor had revealed the truth after he’d joined them at Cape Caem: the man they’d called their enemy Glauca had also been named Titus Drautos, the trusted commander of the glaives. Ignis’s mind still reeled at the logistics. Commanding one force was a daunting, time consuming task. Commanding two opposing forces at the same time? Especially given that Drautos had virtually lived at the Citadel. Niflheim had to have a hell of an infrastructure for telecommuting as well as first rate acting instructors.

Yet no one had noticed, not until his death. One of the glaives Cor had tracked down had only found out in the end when he’d helped another glaive fight him. Cor later had admitted in private to Ignis that he’d debated not telling them. Glauca/Drautos was dead. Why add the weight of his treason to Noct’s burdens? He’d ultimately decided that Noctis should know, not only to keep him on alert for further treachery as they headed towards Altissia but because Noctis would never be free of burdens. Learning to bear them was part of being king.

Ignis hadn’t contradicted Cor then though now he realized he was doing nothing but. Keeping the end of the prophecy from him was the first way. His trust in Ravus was the second. A perfect example of the depths of Niflheim’s capacity for deceit had been presented in its last High Commander and yet Ignis had been approaching his successor with, well, blind trust. He didn’t think it misplaced. He was becoming more sure of that day after day. Why that surety was building when he’d had to force himself to start this conversation and was still dancing around Ravus’s involvement might be a section of that thread he was so reluctant to pull.

So he didn’t. He abandoned what little resolve he’d worked up to take the coward’s way out of switching the subject. “Perhaps we should let these memories lie. Have you found anything relevant lately?”

Ravus waited to answer. Such a clumsy change of topic was suspicious. He, though, didn’t pick either. “I came across a chapter containing accounts of those who lived through the advent of the Scourge. It’s mostly descriptions of manifestations of the disease but more than one made note of the shortening of daylight.”

There it was again. Between the radio broadcasts and chatter on the train, it was hard to escape talk of the increasing night. It was becoming increasingly obvious he shouldn’t. Most of the chatter he could ignore, as it ran more to the panicked side, but he’d overheard a few conversations of a more scientific bent. He wished he had more to go on in finding the source of those conversations than ‘voice sounded masculine’ but it would have to do. Best to set Gladio to the task of canvasing the passengers to find who he was looking for. He may call it ‘egghead stuff’ but Gladio actually enjoyed that kind of discourse. Long, often frustrating hunts for different types of frogs at the behest of one Doctor Sania Yeagre attested to that.

Ravus was unsure how much information this would yield. “The ancient accounts say the change was subtle at first, much as we’ve already observed. Then it seemed to increase exponentially with only a handful of daylight hours remaining within a year before it reverted back to normal.”

“That was from when the Founder King and the first Oracle began their quest together.” Ignis had read versions of that story ranging from picture books as a child to long, heavily annotated books that were a foot thick. Few on Eos hadn’t heard it.

Ravus certainly had. It was part of his family history. Which is why he found the scroll they’d stolen so interesting. “It seems to be from that era and speaks of the Scourge being cleansed but makes no mention of the Oracle or the king.”

“Something else was dealing with the Scourge?” 

“I can’t imagine. Two thousand years of history have made it clear that the Oracle is the only person who could heal it. As advanced as medical science has become, it has failed in matching her in this regard.”

Medical science had tried. The Oracle was one woman and all of Eos suffered from the plague of the Scourge. And now there wasn’t an Oracle at all, leaving the Scourge free to spread. That and the lengthening nights couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Maybe some old Solheim technology was used?” Ignis suggested. “Hopefully recoverable old Solheim technology.”

“There are a number of books in the Manor’s library concerning Solheim and quite a few from the civilization itself. I don’t much anticipate translating those.”

“Really?” Ignis was incredulous. Translation seemed like something right up his alley. No one with Ravus’s vocabulary could hate etymology. The others enjoyed making fun of the man’s peculiar manner of speech but Ignis had come to like it. He couldn’t deny the air of pretentiousness but there was a touch of poetry to it as well. He enjoyed giving his own impressive vocabulary a work out. There was also the bonus of making his own speech look less uptight. “You struck me as the sort to enjoy studying languages.” 

“Other languages, I do, but clearly you’ve never endured the task of translating anything written in that tongue. Lunafreya hated studying it even more than I. Verb conjugation would reduce her to cursing. She once theorized Ifrit turned against his people because they had chosen to make their language so obtuse.”

Ignis laughed at the juxtaposition of that declaration with the ever patient and altruistic image of the Oracle. It was just an image though, a carefully cultivated one, as Ravus had told him. Her brother would be privy to sides of Lady Lunafreya no one else would have known, including ones impatient and sarcastic. No one else had been allowed to see them, save for perhaps Noctis through the notebook. “You and Noct should talk about her,” Ignis mused. “I think it would do you both good.” He didn’t expect Ravus to jump right on it but he hoped the suggestion wouldn’t be dismissed outright.

“I believe you’ve establish other priorities for my time,” Ravus said, fulfilling the expectations. Hope wasn’t entirely lost though. When Noctis and Prompto entered their train car, Ravus acknowledged them a short, formal greeting, which might have been merely to give Ignis a head’s up that they were there but it sounded more on the amicable than strictly polite side. It wasn’t rude anyway.

_Six, I am being overly charitable_ , Ignis thought. 

The duo said they were heading to the dining car and they weren’t teasing when they described the junk they planned on eating. To make something good come from the impending culinary disaster, Ignis told them to ask Gladio to go looking for the man who’d talked about the longer nights.

“Sure,” Prompto said. “What did he look like?”

Ignis counted out the beats of silence.

The sound of Prompto slapping his forehead was the perfect cap. “Okay, right, I’m a dumbass.”

“Your words,” Noctis said. “Not ours.”

Prompto would have spent the next hour apologizing if Ignis hadn’t sent him off to the dining car with the insistence that he didn’t mind. Ignis honestly didn’t. While Prompto’s protective hovering was a sign of how deeply he cared, Ignis preferred being treated as if nothing had changed. The harmless amusement wasn’t bad either.

“For all of Prompto’s solicitiness,” Ravus said, “I wouldn’t think he’d so easily forget your condition.”

He could have addressed Ravus’s comment but it raised a question Ignis found too interesting to let go. “You’re actually using his first name?” Noctis likely got that treatment because that was how Ravus had come to know him all those years ago in Tenebrae. He didn’t think Gladio would ever get it. He tried to pinpoint when Ravus had switched from using his surname to just ‘Ignis’ but came up blank. The library perhaps? It was a welcome change even if it irritated him that he’d missed it. He was curious to a vexing degree what had precipitated it. 

The explanation for Prompto’s treatment was simple. “I called him Argentum and I had to listen to him go on about how I made him sound as if he were ‘ _on a cop show_ ’. He then detailed several plots of this theoretical program.”

Ignis would have paid money to hear that conversation. Prompto had a love for cliched action movies and shows. The cheesier and tropier, the better. Ignis had been roped into watching several favorites over the years. Some weren’t bad once he’d told his brain to shut off and roll with the ridiculousness. Trying to picture Ravus doing the same got him laughing despite himself.

“It’s fortunate you find it amusing,” Ravus said. The utter seriousness of his tone just made Ignis laugh harder.

“My apologies. I gather such frivolities aren’t your thing.” He had to wonder exactly what would be Ravus’s thing. A list of activities that Prompto and Noctis would call ‘snooty’ complete with goofy voices ran through his head. Things like opera, art, chess, classical literature definitely and theatre likely given his recall of obscure chocobo poets in the quarry. Ignis rephrased the list more objectively when he asked Ravus, in part not to offend and in part because he played a damn fine game of chess himself. He had a very high Eos-wide ranking on the chess app on his phone to prove it.

“Why do you wish to know?” A straightforward answer was apparently too difficult for the man to give without full clarification of Ignis’s motives.

“Because we’re stuck on a train and I’d like to discuss things other than death and doom, unless those are your hobbies.” _There_ , Ignis thought. _Was that so hard?_ Another little thread wiggled loose in the back of his mind, whispering that he wasn’t being as straightforward as he claimed.

“No, though I’m certain others will claim differently.” By others, Ignis guessed he meant Gladio. Once he’d clarified what he didn’t like, Ravus apparently didn’t feel obligated to share what he did. He started going over the scroll again.  
Which just made Ignis more curious. He’d won all their previous battles of pigheadedness. He could win again.

“So your refusal to answer - are we hiding something sinister or embarrassing?” Ignis asked.

“We’re not wasting time with irrelevant information.”

“It would take less time to answer the questions than to argue about it.”

“And less time still if you did not insist upon arguing.”

Everybody else Ignis had gotten into these spats with would have already yielded. The challenge, he found, was more satisfying than a victory. That had to be why he persisted. “They’re simple questions with simple answers. No reason to be defensive.”

“There’s no reason for any of this discourse, unless you’ve abandoned your original intention of saving Noctis.”

That was dirty pool. There was no way he was giving in now. They went around in circles a few more times until they reached the point where the argument had gotten so stupid, giving in was the only way to win. Ignis realized this too late as Ravus conceded with a sigh.

“Very well then,” he said. “It’s no, yes, no, yes and yes.”

Ignis took a moment to match the responses to his earlier list. Memorization must be one of Ravus’s hobbies. “Really? Not chess? I thought you might have a mind for the strategy.”

“Not particularly. I never had much patience for it. Hearing Ardyn pontificate on the game’s virtues made me like it even less.”

That wasn’t what Ignis had wanted to hear, having something in common with Ardyn that is. The rest he could work with. Astrals knew he’d tried instilling some culture into Noctis. It wasn’t for any sort of elitist cred or anything, more of an expanding his mind thing. Ignis hadn’t liked a good many of the events and performances he’d dragged the prince to but he had stayed awake through all of them and enjoyed some them enough that he would have liked to have a discussion about them deeper than yawns from Noctis, disinterested ‘uh, huh’s from Gladio and the recurring question of ‘so there weren’t any fight scenes’ from Prompto.

Ravus was not similarly relieved when Ignis explained all of this to him. He resumed being dubious about why Ignis even cared.

“Again, train, boredom, the desire to talk about something, anything, other than a friend’s impending death. You also might remember some advice I gave you about trying to be friendlier?”

“You might remember our ultimate goal and our uncertain timeline for completing it.”

Memorization and debate, also sidestepping. Objectively, this was not a battle worth picking. Subjectively, it bothered Ignis to let it go. He might have technically lost round one but he had gotten the answers he wanted so things were more or less tied. But he wanted more answers or at least more depth to the answers he’d gotten. And none of that had anything to do at all with keeping score.

Disappointed but also uneasy, Ignis let the discussion on the longer nights resume. Ravus had marked a fair portion of one of the books as worthy of review and they went over it in depth. It wasn’t what Ignis had been searching for and the prospect of unending darkness made their main mission that much more urgent. Frustrated on multiple sides, Ignis’s irritation grew.

“Perhaps we should see if Amicitia had any luck with the task you gave him,” Ravus asked after Ignis had demanded clarification on a passage a touch too snappishly. 

It must have been a lot too snappishly if Ravus was volunteering to join Gladio’s company. They’d been doing this for hours. It would feel good to get up and stretch his legs. Ignis's hunger had grown. That had to contributing to his strange mood.

He thought he’d left his cane in Gladio’s booth but couldn’t locate it. He turned to ask Ravus if he knew where it was and was cut off by the shrieking of the train’s brakes. If they’d waited thirty seconds to leave for the dining car, they would have been safe in their seats. As it was, Ignis was thrown to the floor. He managed to twist enough to land on his ass and prevent any injury, but any triumph from the small victory was spooked out of him by the sound of a Magitek arm slamming down hard to the right of his head. 

Ravus had managed not to quite fall on him by bracing himself so harshly but it left him at an odd straddle over Ignis that got more awkward as he didn’t move from it.

“Um, Ravus…” Ignis began. He wasn’t entirely sure how to finish.

Ravus shushed him, ending that dilema, but then moved down even lower, which shouldn’t have been a problem but the flush rising on Ignis’s face suggested otherwise. 

“Listen,” Ravus instructed.

It something else to focus on so Ignis did. Mostly he heard yelling. People were demanding to know what was going on. Screams came from passengers asking if others were okay and moans from the ones that weren’t. Luggage that had shaken loose during the abrupt stop came down in periodic thunks. Lurking behind that noise was an unfortunately familiar thrum. “Niflheim dropships,” Ignis concluded. He was surprised Ravus had picked it up before he had. Maybe he hadn’t been distracted. 

Ravus rose into a crouch, and with his good hand on Ignis’s chest to keep him from moving, scooted from window to window to survey what they were up against.

The train was being raided by the Nifs. He counted off the dropships hovering above, along with a larger deployment vessel and the Magitek troopers that were descending upon the cars. “This doesn’t make any sense,” Ravus complained.

Finally he rose and pulled Ignis up with him only to set him down in a seat without a window. It was for his protection, Ignis knew, but the porcelain doll treatment didn’t sit well with him. It was Ravus though and the gods knew he had an overprotective streak that ran as deep as Ignis’s own. He’d lost count of the times he’d wished it were possible to wrap Noctis up in bubble wrap and tuck him away on a shelf somewhere. He couldn’t complain much about being on the receiving end without being a hypocrite. He also knew there wasn’t much he could do about it. When those instincts kicked in, they kicked in. And when they kicked in for somebody as stubborn as Ravus…

Which raised the question why they’d kicked in. As far as Ignis knew, the only previous beneficiary had been Lady Lunafreya. While Ravus had fought well with the others in the quarry, he’d focused on daemon killing well over ally defense as Prompto had told it. He didn’t strike Ignis as a champion of the disabled either. Which made his interest personal. Which raised a different question about _how_ personal, as in quantity and quality. Which - 

_Six, this isn’t a thread. It’s a whole bloody skein._

There were Nifs in the air and heading for the train. This was absolutely not the time to think about anything other than upcoming fight. 

Ravus was already gearing up, literally. He’d retrieved his sword from the overhead luggage compartment where he’d stowed it after hints and pleading looks from the train’s staff. Noctis hadn’t offered to put it in his armiger yet and Ravus hadn’t asked. 

He gave another command to Ignis, this time to stay put and away from the windows. Ignis contemplated listening to it for roughly a half second. He wasn’t going to sit still at a moment like this. He couldn’t. “I’m coming with you,” he said.

“I’m going outside the train. I’ll be fighting MTs on the rooftops.” Ravus said this very slowly, as if explaining it to a child. A groggy, slow-witted child.

“I’ve no intention of joining you up there, but I would like to find the others. Whatever the Empire is doing, we should face it together. They’re no doubt headed this way already.”

“Then wait for them.”

“The train isn’t moving anymore. I’ll be fine moving from car to car.”

“It isn’t moving anymore because it’s being raided!”

They could do this back and forth until the MTs found them, then keep doing it while they were being shot at and/or stabbed. The whole immovable object versus immovable object thing might be entertaining but it wasn't productive. Ignis knew what would persuade him to change his own mind. He had to trust what was good for the bullheaded goose was good for bullheaded gander. “And if the MTs get to me before the others do? In a confined train car with unfamiliar shapes, I fear that won’t go well for me.”

Ravus huffed. He likely realized Ignis was only working the poor defenseless me angle to get him to acquiesce but if there was a part of Ravus that believed it, he had to go along with it. “I’m beginning to see why Amicitia gets so frustrated arguing with you.”

“Beginning? Were you enjoying our earlier quarrel?” 

There was more huffing but also an extended hand. In a hurry, being led was better and safer than using the cane anyway. Ignis took it without a word. He was surprised to feel metal. He’d noticed a while ago that Ravus rarely touched anyone with the Magitek arm unless he had to, such as the near fall in the quarry. For any encounters they might face, he’d need his sword arm free though, so there really wasn’t a choice.

They went through two cars finding only cowering passengers. The MTs weren’t boarding the train for some reason. No complaints there, but where were Noctis, Gladio and Prompto? Rather than engaging an enemy that was fine hanging back, they prioritized finding their comrades. Ravus complained again that this didn’t make sense but they pressed on. A pass through the dining car was similarly unsuccessful until they opened the door to the next car and found a bewildered Prompto.

“Are you guys okay?” he asked. “Like, okay-okay?”

“Are you unwell?” Ravus asked in return. It was the most natural response to Prompto’s flustered state.

Prompto told them what had happened in a rush. “So we found Gladio and told him to go looking for that dude you wanted to talk to and then we ate and I decided to take more photos ‘cause the scenery around here is really weird and I pointed out to Noct this really poofy and kinda creepy snow cloud and he flipped out. Starts yelling at me, like mean yelling and it’s like he doesn’t even want to listen to me. Then the train stopped, I fell on my ass and when I got up, Noct was gone. I thought I saw him going after some MTs so I was going to follow. Try to help him somehow. Something’s super off with him.”

Ignis’s first thought was that it didn’t make any sense - the same thought Ravus had expressed twice about the Nif attack. Figuring out the illogic of one might help with the other. Noctis breaking down the moment just before their enemy struck seemed too coincidental by half. He ushered Prompto and Ravus back into the dining car. Finding Gladio and any counterattacks would have to wait.

First he wanted to know what it was about the attack that was bothering Ravus.

“If your intent is to capture someone, you first limit their avenues of escape. We’re at a depot. The train could have been stopped for any number of excuses that would not have aroused suspicion while troopers secured the train car by car,” he explained. 

“What if they just wanted to blow Noct up?” Prompto asked.

“Then they would have. You’ve seen the more advanced Magitek armors and that deployment ship has armaments of its own. The train would provide poor defense against either them. Civilian casualties would not be a concern. The Empire is well aware of Noctis’s martial capabilities. A slow ambush of a handful of dropships and a small battalion of troopers won’t accomplish either goal.”

“They seemed to like siccing one ship on us at a time in Lucis.”

Prompto’s observation gave Ravus pause. The former high commander had been the one doing the siccing in all likelihood. Ignis both anticipated and feared the explanation. 

“Ardyn’s _patronage _of your group was not limited to the Disc of Cauthess and the Vesperpool. Surely you realize he wanted you to reach Altissia? In the interim, troopers are plentiful to the Empire. Sacrificing a few to gauge your opponent’s abilities or simply to keep track of them was a prudent use of resources that doubled as plausible deniability when Aldercapt questioned why his orders had not been completed.”__

“So you weren’t, like, _trying_ to kill us? Cause I gotta say, sometimes it really felt like you were.” 

Ravus didn’t respond. Prompto didn’t push him and Ignis was even less inclined. It wasn’t just out of apprehension for what he might have said. The mention of Ardyn had gotten Ignis thinking about something that was presently more important. 

“Who could order an attack like this?” Ignis asked.

Ravus pondered for a moment but didn’t have an answer. The heavy losses at Altissia had thrown the Empire’s chain of military command into chaos. How they’d recovered wasn’t something he cared about and hadn’t contemplated, but Ravus said if they wanted someone competent, Commodore Highwind was the likely choice. The incompetency of this attack suggested to him they hadn’t gone that route. 

“Yeah, but Aranea’s a mercenary,” Prompto said. “Wouldn’t she be a really weird pick?”

“May I remind you their last choice for High Commander despises Niflheim and everyone associated with it?”

While Prompto commented on the Empire’s hiring policies, Ignis started fresh on analysing the attack. “You’re assuming the point of this attack is to capture or kill Noctis. What if it’s neither?”

Prompto was confused. “So, what then? They’re doing this for funsies?”

Ravus got what and who Ignis was going for. “Ardyn. He would have the authority and he would use it to entertain himself or send a message.”

Prompto’s cried of ‘oh, god, not that creep again’ and Ignis tried to piece together what Ardyn’s goal might be. He didn’t think it was just for amusement but he couldn’t rule it out. The man had enjoyed playing the part of a man of no consequence too much. Then there’d been his speechifying on the Altar of the Tidemother and his entrance disguised as Gladio.

The realization that hit didn’t elicit a motive but it did offer up an explanation for what had happened with Noctis. “Prompto,” Ignis said, “you said Noctis was talking to you very strangely, very angrily right before the train stopped.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I did to piss him off so much.”

“I don’t think you did anything. I don’t think Noct thought he was talking to you at all. We know Ardyn can make himself appear to be other people. What if he can also make other people appear to be him? Ravus?”

“I…” he stammered. “I suspect I have only the shallowest notion of Ardyn’s true capabilities. I would certainly not rule it out.”

Prompto wasn’t as relieved by finding out Noctis wasn’t mad at him as he should have been. He was too worried on his friend’s behalf. “If Ardyn’s here fucking with Noct’s head, we gotta find him. Now!”

He would have bolted out of the train then and there if not for Ignis. He understood the urgency, felt it as well, but they needed to have a plan. Cursory force or not, there were still MTs out there and with Ardyn present and up to the gods knew what with even less well defined powers, things could go south in a hurry. Gladio’s whereabouts being unknown were also a concern. They needed to be cautious.

The three of them had to go out together and stay close. They’d keep the proverbial eye on each other for any strange behavior. They’d use passwords if they had to to make sure everyone was who they said they were. Any sudden Gladio appearances were to be treated as suspect. Ignis wanted to go over strategies for dealing with MTs while keeping in close contact but Prompto wasn’t going to wait any longer. Out the door, up the ladder and on to the roof they went. They’d barely got their footing when the train started to move again. Both Ravus and Prompto suggested that Ignis go back down but he refused. Noctis was the priority. 

Noctis was easy to spot, or rather, the effects of his presence were. Ignis heard the explosions and the sounds of failing dropship engines before either Ravus or Prompto had a chance to describe the destruction.

“Damn,” Prompto whistled, “I think Noct’s rage meter is full.”

Ravus was no less impressed though he did express it a bit differently. “Does he even need our assistance? He seems to have matters in hand.”

“We’re on Creepo protol, remember?”

“We still need to warn him,” Ignis said. “If the MTs are merely a distraction as we surmised, it doesn’t matter how many he destroys. Ardyn’s still lurking.”

They tried to keep up with Noctis. They failed because he was warping from ship to ship and two overprotective men snail-crawling across the roof with their coddled charge couldn’t hope to keep up. Ignis was annoyed with the slow going but couldn’t deny its necessity. The roof wasn’t that wide, the train was getting back up to full speed and a fall here would not be easy to recover from. 

They switched tactics to just trying to get Noct’s attention and have him come to them. No success there either. Noct’s constant movement left them hard to spot and all the noise left them impossible to hear.

Ignis was moving on to Plan C when Prompto throw the whole thing off by spying their other target two cars down. “Oh shit, hobo spotting! I don’t think he sees us. He’s too busy watching Noct.”

“I wouldn’t make that assumption,” Ravus warned.

Ignis wouldn’t either. Prompto didn’t care. He was ready to go in guns blazing. “We just need to drive him off and away from Noct. And if I happen to get a headshot…”

“It took Ignis using the power of the Ring of the Lucii to drive him off in Altissia. Your conventional weaponry is not going to impress him.”

“So I’m just supposed to stand here and let him go after Noct? No way. We came up here to help him and I’m going to help him.”

“Correct,” Ravus said. “ _We_ came up here.”

Ignis felt the hair on his arm raise then came the crack of the lightning that he presumed went straight towards Ardyn. That was one way to stop Prompto from doing something rash: doing something rasher. Granted lightning was undoubtedly a more impressive shot than any bullet from a gun. Its effect still left a lot to be desired.

“Um, did he just wave at us?” Prompto asked.

A frustrated grunt from Ravus indicated the answer was yes. Static for a second volley began to build but before he could launch it, the target disappeared. Ignis thought it might be a quirk of his very limited vision - he still had difficulty discerning shapes from a distance - but both Prompto and Ravus were shouting about where Ardyn could have gone.

The trio went to high alert, which for Prompto and Ravus meant forming up to make an Ignis sandwich. Rather than bristle at the overvigilence, Ignis used the safety it provided to calculate the odds that Ardyn would bother engaging them versus going back to whatever his goal was with Noctis. There weren’t that many dropships left over the train, either from Noctis’s rampage or from withdraw orders. A move would have to be made sooner rather than later. Was there any time for him to catch Noctis? Ardyn’s sudden disappearance indicated yet another power to contend with, but could it really match Noctis’s warping abilities?

Unfortunately, the answer came quickly. The three went from scanning the area and finding no one to a cheerful voice calling out to them from a few feet away. Ravus set that second volley free with as much success as the first had.

“Oh, Ravus, always so dramatic,” Ardyn said. “But look, you’ve found another little friend! You’re turning into quite the social butterfly. Your sister’s death becomes you.”

“Ravus, don’t!” Ignis barked. He should have said something to Prompto. A shot rang out, followed by seven more as he emptied a clip into the chancellor. Ignis made a mental note to never piss off Prompto. He had spent a good part of the boat ride to Altissia in anticipation of meeting the woman who had set him on the course to becoming Noctis’s friend. He wouldn’t let the disrespect towards Lady Lunafreya go unanswered, nor any threat to Noct.

At best, Ardyn was mildly offended. “Such deplorable manners!” he tsked. “The result of not having parents to teach you, I suppose.”

Prompto had clicked another clip into place but didn’t fire. “What are you talking about?”

Ignis was curious as well. He guessed the empire had researched Noctis’s companions but would such intelligence turn up the strained relationship between Prompto and his foster parents? It was unnerving that Ardyn of all people had that personal knowledge, yet that was just one more thing to add to the disturbing pile. It wasn’t the most pressing thing either.

“Why are you here?” Ignis demanded. “What do you want with Noctis?”

“I was hoping to have a chat. We’ve fallen out of touch since Steyliff Grove and alas, he was napping during the festivities in Altissia.”

Beside him came the scraping of metal against metal as Ravus clenched his fists in anger. Ignis placed his hand on his good arm, in reassurance and to grab onto if he made any foolish movement towards Ardyn. This situation had to be contained. “Say whatever you wish to say and go.”

“Without dear Noctis to hear? I came all this way and made all this effort.”

“Boo-frickin-hoo,” Prompto muttered under his breath. 

Ignis felt an equal amount of sympathy. Ardyn had a clear advantage here. They had no way to force his hand and talking only ate up the time for Noctis to finish up with the Nif ships and return to the train - and to whatever plan Ardyn had for him.

More annoyingly, Ardyn didn’t bother to hide that he knew all this. “Perhaps we can catch up while we wait for Noctis? Something seems different about you, but I just can’t quite see…”

_Empty the other clip, Prompto_. Ignis was supposed to be the rational one. He couldn’t let Ardyn provoke him with cheap shots. He couldn’t let him run out the clock. As it was, the sound of engines was being overtaken by the rushing air of the train speeding down the track. Just one left, Ignis guessed. Once Noctis was done with it, the four of them on the train’s roof would stick out like a sore thumb. Once Noct spotted Ardyn, there was no way he wouldn’t head straight for him. And then-

__Then what exactly? What _was_ Ardyn’s game here? Ravus was right. If the goal was to kill or capture Noctis, there were so many better ways to go about it than to stand here irritating them. Ignis didn’t buy the chatting excuse but it felt closer to the mark than the more sinister alternatives. _ _

__Ardyn had kicked this off by tricking Noctis into thinking Prompto was someone else, likely himself. Clearly mind games were on the menu. To what end? To drive a wedge between Noctis and his friends? Not happening. That would take considerably more than a magically induced misunderstanding. Tormenting Noct? Ardyn hadn’t lied about the effort made to set this up. With murder and kidnapping off the table, that was the most likely aim. And the best way to torment Noct would be to hurt one of his friends. Which meant they, not Noctis, were the ones in danger. Danger that would probably only manifest once Noctis was here to witness it._ _

__That was it. This was all an elaborate performance with a final act whose sole purpose was to hurt Noctis - not physically, but mentally. Ignis guessed Ravus was safe. Noct had come to tolerate their former enemy, but he wasn’t that close to calling Ravus a current friend. So it was a toss between him and Prompto. This could be a chance for a rematch of their battle at the Altar of the Tidemother. Humiliating as it might be to admit it, Ardyn’s only concern about that seemed to be mocking Ignis. Then there was Prompto. Had the train’s abrupt stop cut off what Ardyn had planned? Had Prompto been targeted simply because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time or had he been carefully picked?_ _

__Ignis motioned for Prompto to get behind Ravus. He didn’t like using one friend for another’s human shield but this was where they were. Prompto barely moved so Ravus moved for him._ _

__“Protecting the little one?” Ardyn asked. “A wonderful display of fraternity, though I wouldn’t trust such bonds if I were you. They can break so easily.”_ _

__“Especially when you trick Noctis into thinking he’s going after you,” Ignis answered back._ _

__“Caught that, did you? Really, you and Ravus are the sorts to point out where the rabbit’s hiding in the hat. Can’t you enjoy the show?”_ _

__“Your ‘Kill Noct and Friends’ show sucks, dude.”_ _

__Prompto wasn’t intimidating on his best day. Reduced to a squeaky voice coming from behind Ravus, all he earned from Ardyn was a condescending chuckle and pretend umbridge. “I haven’t laid a finger upon you and yours this day. It’s Noctis flitting about being so violent. Perhaps you should have a word with him. Here he comes.”_ _

__There wasn’t any point in turning to look for him. Ignis would never be able to make him out in time. He could hear the sound of a warp so he at least knew Ardyn was telling the truth. Ravus and Prompto were watching for him, Prompto shouting multiple warnings at Noct while Ravus delivered a singular, terse one to Ignis._ _

__“Angle’s off.”_ _

__Everything moved very rapidly after that. Ravus lunged at Prompto, wrapped him in a tackle and rolled them both clear. Ignis drew out the sharpest polearm he had from the armiger and hurled it at Ardyn. Noctis landed with sharp clang of his sword against the roof of the train where Prompto had been standing. For good measure, Ignis summoned a second polearm. It had the same trajectory as the first but while that one had hit with a satisfying squelch, this one clattered uselessly against the roof._ _

__“Where’s Ardyn?” Ignis shouted._ _

__A thoroughly confused Noctis tried to answer. “He was right here! Why did you- Prompto? What the hell?”_ _

__“It’s okay, Noct,” Prompto said. “It’s not your fault. Ardyn was messing with your head.”_ _

__Noct was breathing hard, from exertion and from dismay at what he had almost done - inadvertently or not. Prompto continued to reassure him while he and Ravus got to their feet. There was no sign of Ardyn. Even if he was done with trickery for the day, Ignis didn’t think he’d let this go without some smarmy commentary as a farewell._ _

__It was a good thing to be able to predict your enemies movements, yet Ignis still wished he’d been wrong when Ardyn showed for a brief encore._ _

__“Gentlemen, it’s been a delight seeing all of you again, but I’m afraid I must be going. You’re headed to Tenebrae, I presume? I’ll have to send my regards. Until next time.” He left as quickly as he’d appeared._ _

__Ravus repeated the word ‘regards’ in a choked snarl. Ominous barely began to cover what Ardyn could have meant, not after today’s display. Noctis was beside himself, switching from apologies to mumbled imaginings of what he could have done to Prompto. The latter kept insisting only Ardyn was to blame, Prompto’s voice taking on the tenor he used to soothe chocobos._ _

__Ignis just wanted to get off this damn roof, find Gladio, put the mess behind them as a near miss and use it to prepare for whatever sick thing Ardyn might have in mind for that next time. Ravus was of the same mind, at least for getting back into the train. He offered Ignis his arm to lead him to the ladder down._ _

__Ignis took it gratefully. “You did well today,” he told Ravus, which earned a dismissive humph in response. “I mean it. Noct never would have forgiven himself if he’d hurt Prompto. I think even Gladio’s going to give you substantial points for this.”_ _

__“I don’t seek credit.”_ _

__“Clearly.”_ _

__Ravus still received it. Both Prompto and Noctis thanked him, first as they joined them at the ladder, again after they descended, and a few times more after they found Gladio and relayed the story to him. True to form, Ignis was right and Gladio did offer his own gratitude. It should have been a moment that cemented Ravus’s place in the group and vindicated Ignis’s faith in him. Ignis was already taking it as such. Yet when Prompto extended an invitation to join them all for a well earned meal in the dining car, Ravus begged off. He claimed tiredness and headed for the sleeping car._ _

__Ignis took a step to follow him but stopped abruptly when he realized how reflexively he’d done it. Ravus wasn’t ready for the group bonding regardless of the perfect opportunity for it. You can’t force comradery down someone’s throat without resentment coming along._ _

__There were things Ignis wasn’t quite ready for either. The past few hours had raised more questions about Ravus than he’d comprehended at the time and he was now the one reluctant to answer. But as he lingered long enough for Gladio to ask if something was wrong, Ignis supposed he already knew._ _


	6. A High Commander of the Floating World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ravus comes home.

It took yelling from the other passengers for Ravus to realize something was wrong. He’d smelled the smoke the moment the train had emerged from the tunnel leading to the station but then, he always smelled smoke when approaching Fenestala Manor. 

There was also the distraction of the daemons harassing the train. Small things, they represented no threat to him or anyone from Noctis’s group but the passengers weren’t seasoned fighters. They needed protection.

And honestly, killing the hell out of the daemons felt good.

Alba Leonis tore through their flesh with ease. The sword was the one thing from the Empire he gladly kept. Aldercapt had gifted it to him personally at one of many ceremonies thrown to aggrandize Imperial achievements. The fall of yet another territory, some town so small, the Lucians had seemingly only fought for it out of stubborness, was the excuse given for that particular fete. Aldercapt’s speech before he’d presented the sword had been a melange of genuine compliments and backhanded jabs at anyone who hadn’t had the sense to supplicate themselves completely to Niflheim’s might. When Aldercapt had handed it over, Ravus had imagined testing the blade by slicing the man open and letting glorious Imperial guts spill to the floor.

He just might fulfill that vision when they got to Gralea. For now, daemons would have to do. He lost count of the defeated but the damned things kept coming. Quantity over quality, it would seem. Unfortunately, superior numbers usually meant the superior force. With just the five of them fighting, and Ignis still not back to strength, they could become overwhelmed.

Noctis gave a pained shout and they all turned to him. There wasn’t a mark on him. The daemons around him were defeated and fading into the ether. The only thing strange was the red hue in his eyes.

The roar came next. Ravus had heard it before, and would hear it for years to come in flashes and dreams. The Tidemother was emerging from the water. As she rose, funnels of water rose with her, striking at the daemons and cleansing them from this world. Leviathan gathered herself to her full majesty in the sky and held there for a brief moment before diving down to fly alongside the train.

In his youth, Ravus would have been awed by the sight. The image of her at the height of her ascension was not unlike the paintings and sculptures in the cathedral of the manor. Her pose anyway. The presence of her was another thing entirely. A colossus of sinuous muscle and iridescent scales, her every movement spoke of grace and power. The passengers gaped. Noctis’s comrades cheered her on as daemon after daemon was swept away and crushed in her wake. Noctis himself watched her with a wary look and his jaw clenched. Ravus wondered if the Lucian prince was thinking the same thing he was:

_You owe her so much more than this._

What the Astrals owed was seldom what they gave. Leviathan took her leave with the last of the daemons and when the train pulled into the station, Ravus got his first glimpse of the fires that had brought the stench of smoke into the air. They dotted the countryside, consuming the structures and forest of his homeland. In the center, formally a view the station had advertised and prided itself on, was Fenestala Manor. Various fires raged across the many floors of the western facade. He doubted the rest of the manor had escaped unscathed. The Tidemother could have quenched those flames in seconds with a modest display of her strength but she was gone. She cared as little for Lunafreya’s home as she had Lunafreya’s life.

Disembarkment was slow. The appearance of a goddess followed in short order by the sight of Tenebrae burning once again had left the passengers shaken. Ravus hung back to avoid being part of the confused pack. He’d been recognized a few times on this trip, more often as they’d approached Tenebrae and the number of his countrymen aboard increased. Ignoring them had weeded out the weak of the ones that had approached him. Glaring had taken care of the rest. His mother and sister had had endless patience for their people. Ravus had too when he’d been a prince. The dispossessed lord he’d become couldn’t muster it, especially not now when he could scarcely look out a window without remembering the iron tang of blood in the air and the smell of burning flesh. 

The station was a disarray of onlookers gawking at the tragedy and the refugees fleeing it. Further back in a clearing that had served as a location for festivals and fairs during better times, an assortment of Niflheim dropships and Magitek armors were parked. Surprisingly, they seemed to be aiding the wounded. Or perhaps not surprisingly. Ravus picked out the red ship unique to Aranea Highwind. The commodore loved a good fight as much as she loved good coin, but no amount of money had ever been able to move her to slaughter unarmed innocents. Pointedly, she also had never allowed an MT on her crew. Somehow, those orders had always gotten lost or preposterously misunderstood any time anyone had tried issuing them. Even Glauca hadn’t bothered to send her to fight unless he’d known somebody was going to try to fight back.

He’d also given up trying to get any kind of work from her that didn’t end in payment. But here she was, directing the distribution of supplies and trying to get the citizenry into a calm order. No one could possibly be paying her for this. That should have been, if not an inspiration, at least a relief. All Ravus could feel was a sense of dread that it signaled that something worse had happened. One did not walk away from the Empire easily.

Prompto jogged ahead to approach Highwind first. Amicitia shook his head and laughed at some private joke this gesture must have told. No one shared in it. Noctis had stopped to gape at the Manor, a kind of rapt horror across his face. Ignis’s cane accidentally brushing against his calf and the subsequent apology didn’t move him or break his concentration. Ravus went to join Prompto. He couldn’t stand to watch Noctis any longer.

“Okay, not what I expected,” Highwind said at seeing Ravus stand alongside Prompto. “Thought I might find you here but not in this company.”

Ravus didn’t care to get into that. He had to know what had happened. He had a guess on why. “Ardyn did this,” he stated.

“Technically it was the emperor but you could see the creeper’s lips moving when Aldercapt gave the order. Root out the traitor and punish those harboring him or some such bullshit. They didn’t even bother to deploy MTs, just carpet bombed anything that looked like a building. By the time I got here, they were already headed back to Gralea.”

“The regards Ardyn promised us back on the train,” Ignis said. “As extravagant as it is violent.”

“That’s the Empire for you,” she sighed. “And yeah, I know, I used to be part of this shit. Can’t say I’m proud of that but I can say I’m done. That seems to be the fad these days.”

It wasn’t really a hint considering she gestured right at Ravus but he again declined to explain why he was traveling with Noctis. He wanted a status report on the Manor and its staff. There was one person in particular he needed to know was safe. A woman named Maria had come into service of the Fleuret family when his grandmother had been the Oracle. Technically a retainer in charge of household operations, she’d been more of a nanny to both him and Lunafreya. All these years later, with so much changed, Maria still kept what she could of that role, in sentiment if not in duty.

Thankfully, she was fine along with the majority of the staff. Highwind had prioritized evacuation and had gotten the manor clear. Injuries were abundant, some of them severe, and there were a handful missing. It could have been much worse. The manor itself had sustained heavy damage. Most of it was in the west wing that housed the cathedral where worshippers had gathered to honor the Astrals. Ardyn’s message there was clear. Given Ravus’s own opinion of the Astrals lately, he was relieved it had been the area that had borne the brunt of the assault.

There was another area of concern, one that had slipped Ravus’s mind but not Ignis’s. He tried tried to bring it up subtly by asking after other parts of the manor first, but a blind man going into detail about a library full of books he could no longer read was a touch curious. 

“Those books are an irreplaceable part of Eos’s history. Fire would have made short work of them,” Ignis said in explanation after Highwind confirmed that had not been the case.

They should still secure them. And Fenestala Manor was his now. Ravus should survey the damage. It was expected of him. Finding the will to actually do that was the difficult part. Ignis had turned towards him, the expectation that they’d be going to the manor clear upon his face. His eyes were unfocused underneath the dark tinted glasses he’d taken to wearing after losing his sight, yet Ravus couldn’t shake the feeling Ignis was staring straight into him. The man had that effect on people it seemed.

“If I may ask a favor,” Ravus began. “I would like to see the manor for myself. Is there any transport you could arrange?”

Highwind had just the ship in mind. It had already done several runs ferrying people away from the manor. Putting a couple people back in wouldn’t be a problem.

Ravus was surprised how agreeable she was being. As with all Niflheim officers, Ravus had avoided contact with her outside of military convocations and he’d paid little attention to her during them. She’d made a few attempts at talking to him after he’d been promoted to a rank worthy of sitting in on the meetings of Niflheim’s elite. He hadn’t made any attempts at talking back which had driven her to abandon that effort. In the years since, they’d exchanged a handful of words outside of discussion of commands, none of them deeper than the empty pleasantries required of co-workers. Ravus doubted she thought much of him and he....he’d learned what he had to about her in order to work alongside her and then hadn’t really thought of her at all.

That was how Ravus had spent most of his service to the Empire - trying not to think about it. The people he’d worked with, the people he’d fought against. He’d had his own goal, his own mission. Whatever motions he’d gone through to achieve it were just necessary steps not worth dwelling upon.

What had been his complaint to Ignis about Regis Lucis Caelum’s philosophy been? _How unsurprising Regis held a philosophy that discouraged reflection. Tell me how one accepts consequences if they refuse to examine what they truly were?_

There wasn’t time to be doing any of his own reflection now. Fire, books, mission. The excuses came freely. They should after all these years of giving them.

Highwind set off towards the ship and he fell in step behind her. Ignis walked alongside him, offering some condolence that Ravus barely heard. What he did hear was Noctis asking if he could join them.

The word ‘no’ came to Ravus’s tongue by instinct, but something checked it from being uttered. The sting of bitterness towards Regis and his son that he’d nourished for twelve years was still there. Before he’d gone to Insomnia for the signing, Ravus had barely even remembered what Regis’s face looked like. Their interactions when the king had been in Tenebrae had been brief and Niflheim media hadn’t provided any reminders save for the gross caricatures in its propaganda. Yet he remembered the back of the man, the way the cape of his raiment had billowed behind him as he ran from the chaos he had brought down upon them. He remembered Noctis, peeking over his shoulder and screaming for Lunafreya.

And here was Noctis now, still asking after her though this time it was a quiet request to pay his respects. 

Noctis wasn’t his father. He never had been. Regis had died while Ravus’s arm had burned to ash because he’d been fool enough to believe his anger and hatred were strength enough to save his sister and now respects were all anyone could give her.

“Do what you wish,” Ravus answered softly.

Some battles weren’t worth fighting.

+++

It was a short flight from the station to the garden off the east wing that Highwind had decided to use as the staging ground for the evacuation effort. Ignis and Noctis stayed together in the loading bay while Ravus went to the bridge to survey the destruction to the areas surrounding the manor. Ignis couldn’t see and Noctis didn’t want to. Nearly every building of note had been hit along with scattered spots across the mountains. There was no choice but to let the fires there burn themselves out. The mountains made access too difficult for any equipment that could put them out.

Highwind took note of this too. “Hope nobody lived there.”

“Tenebrae is sparsely populated. In some areas, the only roads are simply well-tread chocobo paths. The few who inhabit these regions would know to evacuate on their own.” _Assuming they lived to make that effort_.

“Yeah, I guess you’d have to be some kind of survivalist to get by on the side of a mountain. Landscape here is crazy. Beautiful, but crazy. I swear some of these mountains are floating.”

It was an illusion, a combination of the perpetual mists rising up from the valley below and the narrow width of the mountains themselves. Such features were unique to Tenebrae but the view from the bridge’s window wasn’t unlike so many scenes of devastation he’d witnessed from other Niflheim ships after other attacks. The only difference was that they’d been Lucian lands and he’d been the person ordering the strikes. Though Highwind had said this had been a haphazard blanketing of bombs, he could make out the standard patterns of an Imperial attack in some of the damage left behind. The cathedral had been Ardyn’s personal project but the bridges linking Fenestala Manor to the neighboring peaks were a natural target, both to block people from escaping and to prevent aid from reaching any survivors. The mansion just below the manor served as a waypoint to the train station. The flames rising from these locations indicated they’d been struck as the priorities they normally would have been.

At this point after a battle, the damage and casualty reports would be coming in. Decisions on where additional MTs were needed or where they could be withdrawn would be made. The captured would be counted with those of value being singled out to receive the terms of their surrender. If Niflheim had bothered to stay, he would have been the one being dragged along by the troopers and then forced to kneel before the ranking commander. 

That’s what had happened twelve years ago. He, with his arm pulsing in pain from the bullet wound, and Lunafreya, doing what she could to soothe it with her nascent power, had been brought before Glauca. He’d offered condolences as their mother’s blood had dried upon his sword and had informed them that Niflheim was here to help them and their country recover from this tragedy. Lunafreya had bristled at every false word. He, her older brother and protector, had sat there stupidly gawking at Glauca’s feet.

“We got most of the fire contained on this end. Kept it from spreading too much. It’s not that bad on the north and south sides either,” Highwind explained as the ship prepared to land. “I know it looked like hell coming from the station but my men know their shit. They got a lot done.”

Commodore Highwind, trying to console him - this world really was changing. “Thank you. I know none of you were required to do this.”

Highwind shook her head. “Maybe not required but I felt like I had to all the same.”

She must not have been alone in that sentiment. Once off the ship, Ravus saw the Magitek armor belonging to Loqi Tummelt. That was unexpected.

“Uh, huh,” Highwind drawled after Ravus asked her about it. “He’s still a true believer and all that, he just doesn’t think the glory of the empire involves partying with daemons and cow-towing to a bum.”

“He said that?”

“It was more like consorting with daemons and he called Izunia an upjumped vagabond but you get the gist. Speaking of unexpected alliances, are we really not gonna talk about you joining the Lucian royal boy band?”

He supposed he owed Highwind an answer for all that she had done. “We have mutual goals.”

“Yeah, those groups always have that one guy that’s suspiciously older than the others, but what’s in it for you?”

He supposed again that he owed her an answer that wasn’t as blatantly obvious as it was vague. “My sister gave her life in Noctis’s name. I would carry on her mission on her behalf.”

“The same sister Aldercapt ordered you to kill and you didn’t even flinch?”

“You can’t seriously believe I entertained that notion for even a second,” he bit back. Why wouldn’t she though? What had he ever done to indicate he wasn’t the same true believer she’d described Tummelt as?

“Okay, okay. So what then? That was the straw that broke the chocobo’s back?”

He could explain himself just as he had when questioned by Noctis’s group. The very same words would do. Highwind was hardly in a position to judge him. She’d done what she’d done for the empire for money. His primary motive had been purer. 

_Primary_. Shouldn’t it have been _only_?

The repetition of his defense came out so weak, it drew Ignis away from Noctis’s side to give a heartier version. Highwind seemed to find it and him more credible.

“Had me fooled,” she said. “Thought you were Aldercapt’s golden boy. All those radio addresses and those recruitment posters.”

“There were posters?” Ignis asked with no small amount of curiosity. 

“You didn’t miss anything. They couldn’t get him to smile either.”

Niflheim’s propaganda ministry had loved parading around prominent figures of captured territories. It promoted unity and peace, they’d said, for the people to see their leaders join hand in hand with the Empire. No one believed that but it was kinder than spelling out the suffering that would occur if the people didn’t get in line. Lunafreya had been the one they’d wanted to use after Tenebrae fell. The future Oracle espousing the virtues of Niflheim would have been a coup, which was why they’d been very angry when she’d refused. The nature of the Oracle’s duty required neutrality, she’d claimed. When persuasion had failed to make her reconsider, the insinuations of threats had begun and risen steadily in menace until Ravus had volunteered. Atop the humiliation of having to do the damn things, there’d been the reminders from his handlers every time he’d made a mistake that he’d been the second choice and had his performance not improved, they would have had to think of new ways to get their first choice to comply.

Ravus had gotten better at the addresses over the years. As he’d risen in the ranks, the Empire had come to prefer his voice being their voice and had been content with letting Lunafreya speak on Oracle matters only. That had been the easiest bargain he’d made, but when he gave a terse summary of it to Ignis, the offhanded nature of Highwind’s remarks rankled him in a way he could not name.

Ignis thankfully dropped his teasing tone and the matter entirely. “I wanted to get to the library,” he reminded everyone. “If someone could escort me?”

‘Someone’ had to be Ravus. The manor’s staff couldn’t be asked to reenter the very place they’d just escaped on a Lucian stranger’s wish to see some books. He had wanted to go to the living quarters but when Noctis broke from his daze to ask if Ravus minded if he went to Lunafreya’s room, that settled that. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to be there alone. With Noctis, it was out of the question.

Noctis left on his own, mumbling half to himself that he remembered the way. His days here during his recovery had mostly been spent between this garden and Lunafreya’s room.

Highwind joined him and Ignis in heading to the library. She had more on her mind and, for some reason, had decided he’d be a good person to vent it to. It made some sense as she began to talk about the current state of Gralea. That was their destination after they left Tenebrae. The intel would be valuable. Also, he’d lived there for nearly a decade and had been the High Commander of the Imperial forces less than a month ago. 

“You heard the rumors coming from Besithia’s lab before you left for Altissia?” she asked.

He’d heard, and then shunted them to the back of his mind. That madman and his daemon experiments had been the highest entry on his list of what not to think about. He’d known, of course, in general how the MTs were made. He’d known of the Empire’s use of daemons in combat. But he’d kept that knowledge at arm’s length, reduced it to a sort of trivia one recalls at a random moment and forgets the next. He wasn’t the one in the laboratory creating the damned things. He wasn’t the one trying to cultivate the very scourge that had been anathema to his family’s bloodline for two thousand years.

He was just the craven who’d ignored it.

“I’m aware there were...issues.” The meek response didn’t cover the half it of it, yet seemed befitting.

“Um, yeah, big scary issues like daemons escaping and researchers disappearing.” Highwind’s agitation was a stark contrast to Ravus’s reticence. “And that was just the shit that got through Besithia’s security. Chatter kept getting louder and louder and then nothing. I mean nothing. Can’t talk to anybody there ‘cause nobody’s answering. And that’s assuming there’s still people there _to_ answer.”

“Some sort of accident?” Ignis inquired. 

Highwind, relieved somebody was listening to her, turned towards him. “Accident or intention, who can tell with that whackjob? I honestly wouldn’t care if a giant pit opened up and swallowed the lab and everything in it, but shit seems to be spreading to the city. Comm channels are nothing but missing person report after another. Security forces are putting in overtime and calling for a civilian curfew but what the hell’s that gonna do?”

Ignis had more questions for her and she gave what answers she could. Highwind painted a bleak picture. Gralea, walled in by the crater it was built upon and protected by the largest military force ever assembled in Eos, was falling to the rot from within. It was hardly surprising. For all of Verstael Besithia’s research into daemons, somehow he’d never learned there was no such thing as a tame one. Still, for the city to succumb as quickly as Highwind claimed...

Ravus had never liked the capital. Its massive concrete buildings on endless tracts of paved land were the polar opposites of Tenebrae and its greenery. There was a sterility to it, despite the ever present layer of smog coming from the industrial parks. He had living quarters outside of Zegnautus Keep on the upper floor in a building vaunted for its luxury and exclusivity. Many of the Niflheim military’s elites lived there. Ravus didn’t care if he ever saw his apartment or any of his neighbors again. It wasn’t his home. This burning manor before him was. 

“I’m not sure if this apparent daemon infestation with help us or make things harder,” Ignis concluded. “They’ll be a distraction from anyone entering the city but if we end up having to fight them and MTs, that will be tricky to say the least.”

Highwind agreed. “Just take care of yourselves. It’s bound to be worse than when I left. I’d give you a ride, but after I wrap things up here, I’m going to the labs to find out what I can. They’re a good bit outside the city.”

“Is that wise?” Ravus asked, his interest surprising himself.

“Nope, probably dumb as hell. But I got some shit to make up for, you know?”

He did know. Or rather, he should.

+++

The role of the Oracle went beyond healing the afflicted. She also served as a bridge between the Astrals and humanity, conveying the wishes of the divine to the masses and the other way around. Once, in a whisper best reserved for discussing nefarious plots, Ravus’s mother had confided in him that the second part of the job description had actually been rarely performed. She and her predecessors had communed with Messengers, who theoretically had relayed what information humans and Hexathon both needed to have, but genuine, direct discussion had been limited. The first Oracle had received pronouncements on the Crystals, the Scourge and the first Lucian king. With their instructions given, the Astrals hadn’t seen much need for further communication, not until the Chosen Oracle would arrive. She would one day wake the gods so they would aid another Lucian royal in the fulfillment of the prophecy decreed to the first, the very same prophecy that had overtaken Ravus’s current life.

Lunafreya had been nine at the time and already decreed to be that chosen Oracle. As Sylva Via Fleuret had described her daughter’s destiny with pride, said daughter had been enjoying an uncommon moment of leisure from her duties in the garden. Ravus had watched her spend it with Umbra and Pryna, picking flowers and tucking her favorites into their collars. He remembered being so amazed, by the trust his mother had placed in by letting him in on the secret and by the Oracle Lunafreya would surely become. His little sister was going to save the world.

And then the world had done nothing at all to save her.

Oracles between the first and, as it had so bitterly turned out to be, the last, had not let the indolence of the Astrals deter them from spreading faith in the deities. These Oracles had gathered every scrap of knowledge they could. The origin stories of the Astrals, of the hatred and indifference turned into love towards humanity, Ifrit’s betrayal and the war it had brought about, the meteor, Starscourge, every divine word ever uttered, all had been documented and studied and collected so it could be analyzed again. Hence the library he and Ignis now stood in.

Other books were here as well. The texts recovered from Solheim that he’d mentioned to Ignis were among them. There were shelves upon shelves dedicated to the Scourge. Many Oracles had kept records of the people they’d healed. While the Scourge was unending, tales of its purging offered hope. Other books were clinical studies of the disease. The Oracle had been the only source of a cure, but that hadn’t stopped doctors from writing volume after volume on it. Symptoms and the ways to ease them were the typical topics. A few of these books hadn’t been shy in their depictions of advanced cases.

Drawings and photographs of victims with rotted limbs and thick, dark liquid oozing from their orifices had been used in fodder in childish games between Lunafreya and Ravus to see which one was the more squeamish. Their mother had disapproved when she’d found out about them. Never one to be too stern with her children, especially her eldest, Sylva had bowed to Lunafreya’s impeccable logic that becoming inured to the appearance of the Scourge would better enable her to treat its victims. They’d gotten a lecture on compassion consisting of more than a calm demeanor and been banned from looking at the books outside of their lessons. Otherwise, they’d escaped punishment. It had been a fine result for Ravus. Despite being older, he’d lost a lot more of those contests than he’d won.

He thumbed through the volume that had been the weapon of choice for the siblings. Nothing in it phazed him now. He’d seen far worse on the battlefield. What was a dribble of black goo compared to entrails strewn across the ground or a headless corpse? This was a mere book. There were no scents or sounds accompanying the carnage. He flipped the pages with increasing impatience, searching for something that would rouse those old feelings of shock. He found nothing.

Lunafreya’s excuse for the mother hadn’t been a lie per se. After a game had been decided, she’d look again at the pictures and imagine how she would help the victims that would come to her. It had been her dream that no one would make another book like these. When he’d looked upon the aftermath of the battles he’d commanded, he’d seen...he’d seen...he couldn’t say what he’d seen. Necessary losses? Statistics? He certainly hadn’t treated anything. He’d been the cause.

“Ravus?” Ignis asked hesitantly. “I can’t make out anything that’s here. I need your guidance.”

Guidance in what? He’d bought him here. All the books Ignis coveted were fine. The fire hadn’t touched the library outside of infesting it with the odor of smoke. It would take years to go through them all. Did Ignis expect him to use some sixth sense to hone in on the exact tome that contained the exact information they were looking for? 

“I mean, you’re familiar with the books that are here,” Ignis continued. “We should go over which ones might be the most helpful and then if you could find them to take with us-”

“I don’t know,” Ravus said. He didn’t want to be in here anymore. He thought back to the people that had been milling about the garden awaiting transport to get them away from the manor. There’d been a steward or two among them. They’d know more than him, they’d be more helpful than him. Though they wished to leave, they’d do what he said and stay. “I’ll find someone to assist you.”

He tried to shove the medical book back into its place on the shelf but it wouldn’t fit. These old books had always been crammed in tight. He left it out on one of the many tables in the library, catching his leg on the corner of the table as he went to leave. Ignis grabbed at his arm.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “I thought it might be bit overwhelming being here again. I didn’t mean to push you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t believe that’s true. And after everything you’ve been through, no one would ever expect it to be.”

Ignis said it with such gentleness, Ravus almost believed it. How sweet it would be to have such an understanding. And if anyone could truly offer it, it would be Ignis. His desperation to save Noctis mirrored his own need to save Lunafreya, driving them both to the madness of using the Ring of the Lucii. Of course, Ignis had been found worthy of wielding its power. Ravus had only been found wanting. From that judgment had come failure after failure until all he had left was following the wishes of his dead sister at the urging of a man who had lent him his faith because he had no other choice but to.

And he kept giving it. While Ravus stood stock still, Ignis laid out further excuses. It would be so easy to listen, to nod along in gratitude. Yet his eyes were drawn back to the book. He’d set it down carelessly and it had opened to a picture of a child in the advanced stages of the Scourge. He and Lunafreya had ruled out using the images of children in their ingenuous game. Young as they’d been, they’d recognized the morbid line that it crossed. He wanted to say with surety that he hadn’t passed over that line as an adult but the doubt nagged at him that he hadn’t bothered to look.

All he hadn’t thought about. All he hadn’t wanted to see. And here, after all of it, a blind man offered him more mercy than he’d had for anyone who’d not been Lunafreya.

Ravus pulled his arm away. Ignis looked surprised, and wounded. So gifted in persuasion and insight, he must have been astounded his words held no balm for Ravus.

There were just too many things he couldn’t see.

+++

Ravus stood outside the door to Lunafreya’s room listening to someone - Noctis, it had to be - fumbling with the keys of her piano. The song being attempted was unrecognizable until a half-decent run of notes shaped themselves into stanzas of an etude that had been one of Lunafreya’s favorites. Ravus recalled her efforts to teach it to Noctis when he’d stayed here. Twelve years on, he hadn’t gotten anywhere as a pianist. But he had remembered the music.

He should have turned and gone to his own room, but as compelled as he had been to flee from Ignis, Ravus found himself opening the door and stepping inside before he could find a reason why.

Noctis was equally surprised to see him. He stopped playing but it wasn’t to speak. He sat hunched over on the piano bench watching Ravus cautiously, his eyes at a level barely above a piece of sheet music that had been left out.

“Go on,” Ravus told him when the silence became unbearable.

“Nah, I’m mangling this song. Never was any good. Luna made it look so easy, but she was really good.”

That was a generous assessment of Lunafreya’s skill. She hadn’t been a poor musician, but anyone who’d truly studied music would have rated her as average. She’d had the ear to be better, much better. She just hadn’t had the time. Something else had always commanded her attention. She and Ravus had shared their schooling as children but when their studies had been over and his day freed, Lunafreya had had further duties. Private lessons with their mother that only an Oracle had need of. Parishioners seeking blessings to speak with. Prayers to lead. A nigh endless list of demands upon her person that she’d met with grace, even as a child. Even as he’d asked her how it didn’t drive her mad.

“She enjoyed playing,” Ravus said evenly. _In the few moments that she could._

“Actually made me enthusiastic about it. Tried taking some lessons after I got back to Insomnia. Specs was thrilled but I didn’t keep it up. Never any good really means I sucked. Felt guilty when I wrote to Luna about it but she was cool about it.”

“There was precious little Lunafreya didn’t understand.” Serving the empire that had killed their mother and razed their homeland, defying the gods she’d sworn to serve, threatening the man she’d placed her love and faith in - she’d found a way past that. Aborted piano lessons were nothing.

Noctis kept on, recalling exchanges he and Lunafreya had made in the notebook. He was sitting up straighter. His whole head was visible above the sheet music. Ravus tried to listen but he couldn’t focus. How many weeks ago was it that they’d been at the Aracheole Stronghold and his hand had been at Noctis’s throat? How long since the Altar and Ravus had been so gutted and aggrieved that he’d been ready to run Noctis through? And here was Noctis now, chatting away as if they were old friends.

In another life, they could have been. In another life, they had been, of a sort. Noctis had demanded a good bit of Lunafreya’s attention while he’d been here healing but often Ravus had gone along with them to make the duo a trio. He’d pushed Noctis’s wheelchair as Lunafreya walked ahead pointing out various flowers and statues along the garden path. They’d taken meals together. Noctis had sat in on their lessons. Ravus had even lifted Noctis from the wheelchair and settled him into his bed at night because the shy boy had been so embarrassed at how weak he’d remained and hadn’t wanted to bother a servant with it. 

He’d once been that gentle. He’d once been that accommodating. 

He’d once, when Noctis and Lunafreya had wanted to listen to music beyond her abilities to play, sat on that same piano bench and done what he could to fulfill their requests. 

“Do you still play?” Noctis asked in a perfect echo of his thoughts. He must have already been talking about it and his words had somehow seeped through the haze Ravus had found himself in.

“No.” Ravus shook his head. “I don’t know if I still can.”

“Oh, right.” Noctis sneaked a guilty glance at the Magitek arm and went back to slouching and pecking at the piano keys. 

Ravus had no idea if the prosthetic had the capability to perform such fine motor movements. He hadn’t tried. It was good for blocking incoming blows. It was good for the lightning. It was good for reminding him of how thoroughly he’d failed. Beyond that, he hadn’t wanted much use for it. It was another thing he didn’t wish to think about despite how impossible it was to forget. The pain that would race through his shoulder where it was attached if he moved it too quickly. The heaviness that would cause him to favor his left leg to compensate. The look of it. The truth of it.

_”It’s to your liking?” Verstael Besithia had cooed and the nausea that had ridden up in Ravus’s throat had been the only thing that had kept him from screaming._

“Hey, are you okay?” Noctis again. He and the piano had gotten further away and continued to do so as Ravus backed slowly towards the door. It alarmed him that he hadn’t realized that he’d started doing it. It was more alarming that he had to make a concerted effort to stop.

Noctis repeated his question. He got up from the piano and walked towards Ravus when it went unanswered again. The look of concern upon his face struck Ravus as absurd. So much worry for someone who’d done so much against him. Had gratitude for helping Prompto wiped the slate that thoroughly clean? 

Ravus was reminded of the times Lunafreya had read a very sanitized legend of the chosen king to Noctis. Eight years old, Noctis couldn’t have understood the weight of Lunafreya’s words yet he’d sworn to do as she’d told him all the same. It would have helped people. It would have made Lunafreya happy. No more reasons had been needed. It had been all so clear to him.

_Entitled_ Ravus had called him to Ignis, all because Noctis had wanted to be with Lunafreya as much as he could. That hadn’t been his sixteen-year-old self’s assessment of the boy Noctis had been. That was revisionist history, Ravus had to admit. A convenient lie to tell to justify all the others.

And that boy was still here, still concerned. “Do you need to sit down or something?” 

“I’m fine,” Ravus said in a cracked whisper when he finally found his voice. “The smoke..” It was the smoke, wasn’t it, leaving him lightheaded and making it so hard to breathe. The living quarters were in the same wing as the library but several floors above. The altitude, the windows, they were making the smell of the smoke that much worse. He wondered how long it would take until Lunafreya’s things were free of the stench.

“Yeah, sure,” Noctis said back. “That must be it.” His eyes said something else. But whatever the message was that he wanted to give, he lacked the courage to deliver it. 

_No_ , Ravus thought as he fled a room for the second time within the hour, _he lacks the cruelty_.

+++

Ravus had stood but for a moment in front of the door to his own room before he’d decided to not even bother. He’d only stayed in it a handful of times since joining the Imperial army. Nothing in it had really changed in twelve years. He hadn’t wanted to disturb anything - out of a desire to preserve what had been and a bizarre feeling that he hadn’t had the right. His own home, his own room and there’d been the feeling like he was a guest. Judging from the stares a few of the servants had occasionally given him, he hadn’t been the only one with that opinion.

He went instead to the study and bedroom suite that had been his mother’s. In there, time had truly frozen. Oracles had never been known for having the longest of life spans. The burden healing placed on the body denied them a chance to reach old age. Confrontations with daemons did for the rest. But for an Oracle to die in her home from a brazen act of violence was unheard of. It had left all who had known and worked with Sylva Via Fleuret in a state of shock. Going through her things, clearing out her most personal of spaces, they’d felt like a desecration. When Lunafreya ascended to the position, there’d been mutterings of her using these rooms as every Oracle since the manor had been built had done, but she hadn’t considered it. She’d insisted she was too comfortable in her own room. There’d also been the fact that as nothing more than a figurehead ruler, she had little use for a grand office that had been designed for a queen.

He’d caught Lunafreya in here a few times. Usually it had been because he was already there when she’d entered. A good deal of Ravus’s childhood had been spent at the foot of his mother’s desk playing with his sister while Sylva had gone about the business of running a country. She’d included her children more and more in her decisions as she’d gotten older. Both of them, for though the crown and role of Oracle were to go to Lunafreya, she’d made it clear it was to be Ravus’s role to support his sister in all things. _She’ll get the glory and the devotion of the people_ , Sylva had teased. _And you’ll get to deal with all the bureaucracy_.

It had been a joke, not a prediction, but it had been accurate more or less if you could count keeping the Empire at bay by serving it as bureaucracy. That’s how Ravus had considered it. What other use would he have been to his sister? Tenebrae had fallen under Niflheim’s rule. They’d let Lunafreya have the title of ‘Lady’ out of publicity’s sake, not respect. They’d made much out of letting her continue her duties as Oracle because they’d shut down all her duties as queen. Ravus had been of even less consequence, less power.

With nothing at hand with which to beat them, he’d joined them. For so many years, he’d told himself it had been worth it. In exchange for his capitulation, the Empire had backed off its threats to Lunafreya. The more unsavory officers like Calligo Uldor had been reassigned to where they couldn’t harm her. As he’d risen in rank and power, Lunafreya had been allowed to travel further and further beyond Tenebrae’s borders to do her healing. All good things.

And if he’d relished a touch in watching Lucian troops flee in a recreation of their king’s gutlessness, that hadn’t been the true reason for his deeds, merely a not unwelcome byproduct. 

He’d let them run, though. It was more generous than most Niflheim commanders. They’d seen it as a sport. The magitek troopers were too slow to overtake anybody who wasn’t already injured so their games usually involved the Scourge addled beasts and daemons Besithia’s lab provided. Occasionally, an officer in magitek armor would test their long range aiming on fast moving targets. All of that excess, Ravus could say, he was well above. 

Ordering it, at least. Actively participating in it. He’d witnessed it and hadn’t ordered it to cease. He hadn’t disciplined anyone who had partaken. There was nothing he could have been done without giving away his hand. The lives of nameless, random Lucians had never been anything in comparison to Lunafreya. 

Had he spoken out? Still nothing would have been done, except for the Niflheim leadership to replace him with some other commander, one likely eager to prove himself and who had no qualms about the grislier ways to go about doing that. The power and influence he’d managed to accumulate would have been thrown away for nothing.

The strain of the day and breathing smoke-tainted air had taken their toll on him. Ravus half sat, half collapsed into a chair in the area where his mother had received guests. On the wall beside it hung a massive framed map of Eos with all the havens scattered across the lands marked in vibrant blue ink. His mother had often used it to show him the places she and other Oracles had traveled, each spot accompanied by a story. Hours and hours he’d spent nestled against her side, listening to her speak. He’d had the map and history it represented memorized before he could read. 

When Lunafreya had gotten older and their mother too beset by her duties, Ravus had repeated all those tales for his little sister and had made sure to add that one day, she too would be going to all these far flung places and creating stories of her own. He’d held her up and let her trace out future journeys along the map and promised to be right beside her wherever she’d go.

He’d failed in that promise but in the end, Lunafreya had done all that she’d had to do. There was the mass of land drawn in ivory and shades of blue that represented Altissia. For however long humanity had left, they’d speak of the last Oracle giving her life to call forth the Tidemother. Over on the Lucian continent, there was the Duscae region and Fociaugh Hollow where she’d communed with Ramuh. Further on, the Disc of Cauthess where she’d begun her fatal journey by rousing Titan.

No, that wasn’t were it had begun. Her path had been set out for her long before she’d started her pilgrimage. The first steps had been taken in the city whose name was writ in bold letters of black and gold in the upper right corner of the map.

Insomnia.

The Empire had never intended to honor the peace treaty. The original plan had called for leaving Insomnia alone per the agreement while Niflheim occupied the rest of Lucis. But that peace had always been meant to be temporary, nothing more than an easier means by which to get a foothold around the Crown City to launch the final campaign to seize the Crystal. It had still been predicted to be a brutal, costly assault which had made the alternative Ravus had come up all the more appealing to Aldercapt and had convinced him to change course.

A small scale attack on the leadership of Lucis was how Ravus had sold it. They’d all be gathering to sign the treaty. Cut off the head of the beast as it were and the rest of the Lucis would fall even more easily, certainly more cleanly. The people of Insomnia would not have even known their city had been taken and their king dead until it was announced. That’s what he’d said at the war council when he’d introduced the notion. That’s what he’d repeated to himself when the engagement had been announced to make the offer appear more authentic and he’d learned Lunafreya would be expected to be in Insomnia. That’s what he repeated again when he hadn’t been able to stop her from going. And again when he realized the number of troopers being mobilized far exceeded what would be needed for a quick coup. Crowd control in the wake of that announcement had been the excuse he’d made for himself.

Ravus couldn’t remember what pathetic equivacations he’d come up with when he’d found out about the involvement of Besithia and his daemons. He wasn’t stupid. He’d known what they were for. He’d known what was really going to happen and there’d be nothing ‘clean’ about it. But all the people he hated the most were going to be in one room together. He was going to have access to the Ring of the Lucii. He was going to use the power it would give him to be rid of all of them and set Lunafreya free from that damned prophecy by taking in all upon himself. He was going to be worthy.

Gods, it was a miracle the Lucii had only taken his arm.

Maybe the devastation and lives lost would have been greater if he’d kept his mouth shut and the original plan had gone through. He’d never know. He’d never read the casualty reports. Niflheim always adjusted the numbers anyway. Up when they wanted to appear more fearsome to their foes, down when they wanted to sell the bullshit of their benevolent dictatorship. What did the dead care if they were numbered accurately? What did the living care if their lost parent or sibling was one of thousands or millions? 

Why had he ever thought it was only his losses that counted?

_I would not have you serve Niflheim in my name!_ Lunafreya had shouted at him after he’d told her of his intentions. Over and over again she’d insisted. He had those fights memorized purely from the repetition.

_How else can I protect you? To who else can I turn? Lucis has made it clear they will not aid us._

_The Astrals and their Messengers will watch over me_.

_As they watched over Mother as she was struck down?_

_By Niflheim!_.

The wording changed but the meaning never had. Stubborn to their cores, they’d had these go rounds until they sickened of them and had agreed to set politics aside on the few occasions when they’d seen each other. From then on, they’d barely talked at all. The shadow of that argument had loomed too large and rendered them half-strangers instead of the inseparable siblings of their youth. How long ago was it really that Ravus had lost her? How had he not known?

And now, only when it was too late, he followed her wishes. He had called it absurd but that hardly described it. Traveling with the very people he’d hounded across Lucis, on a mission to reclaim the same Crystal he’d help steal, trying to save the life of a man he’d once wanted dead. They’d taken him in. Ignis because he need him. Noctis out of shared grief. Prompto out of a kind nature. Only Amicita had any sense and he was wavering. One good act and all the bad had washed away.

It was that easy for them.

But it wasn’t that easy.

The failing light brought darkness into his mother’s study early. Ravus remained where he was, unsure of the time. He guessed it had grown late enough for others to begin questioning where he’d gone but gathering the motivation to put them at ease was beyond him. He sat and stared at the map. Bit by bit, Eos faded into the night.

When he heard Ignis call his name, Ravus didn’t answer. That didn’t stop Ignis from fumbling his way into the room. The sweeps of his cane were slower and gentler than usual, as if paying deference to his surroundings. It would be cruel to let a blind man keep searching for someone who was right in front of him. It wouldn’t be the first time Ravus had been called that.

Ravus turned from the map to look at the man who’d brought him to this point. Ignis had a need of him, was using him but none of that required the warmth he’d offered along with this new path. He’d thought it a trick at first, a way to force loyalty to their cause. Such false amity had been common in the Empire and its officers looking for a way to advance. Ignis was cunning and desperate enough to think of the same but as Ravus had gotten to know him, he utterly lacked the one quality that would have enabled him to do it. Ignis, like Noctis, wasn’t cruel.

Quite the opposite actually. Ignis pried but it was out of genuine curiosity. He teased but did not mock. Though their association had formed due to his wish to save Noctis, it extended beyond that. Ravus couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation purely to talk, let alone enjoyed it. He hadn’t made it easy. That had all been Ignis. He’d gone against all the hesitancy and distrust Ravus had offered him, relenting when he had to and resuming only when he’d somehow sensed it was safe.

And through it all, Ravus had lied to him.

He was sure Ignis would find a way to not hold even that against him. He was too clever, too generous for his own good. 

“What do you want?” Ravus finally answered.

Ignis startled. He’d likely written the room off as empty given how silent Ravus had been. He wasn’t without composure for long. He never was. Even at the Altar, dealing with the searing pain from the Ring, Ignis had kept his wits about him. When Ravus’s arm had burned, the most he could do was silently beg for the grace of a dead mother who would have been nothing but ashamed of what he’d become.

“I ran into Noctis,” Ignis explained. “He was concerned. He said you left rather abruptly and looked a bit ill. I can’t speak to how you looked when you left the library but there does seem to be a pattern of hasty departures.”

It was only now that Ravus realized he’d forgotten to send someone to help Ignis. The thought had fled his mind as swiftly as he’d fled the library. He offered a meek apology, not expecting and fully wanting it to be flung back at him for how little it covered.

Ignis, though, would never be so brusque. He played it all off as a joke. “It was somewhat of an adventure. Being blind and alone in an enormous manor I’ve never been in before. Parts of said manor still being on fire. But I made it here eventually. No harm, no foul.”

He said it with a smile. The circumstances he’d been left in and his real concern was making sure Ravus didn’t feel bad about that. All the decorum Ravus had been taught stated he should apologize again, with greater detail and sincerity. He stayed in his chair and stared at Ignis instead.

“Um, so where is here exactly?” Ignis asked when it became clear Ravus wasn’t going to do any talking first. “Noct said you headed this way but he couldn’t remember what was down here.”

“My mother’s study. I don’t think he ever came here. She treated him in his guest quarters.”

“I see. Well, not literally.” He let out a small chuckle at his weak joke. 

_Gods, is he trying_.

“I was pushing you too hard,” Ignis continued. “I needed to know the books were safe but once we found out they were, they could have waited.”

Ravus’s stare became a gape. _Ignis_ was apologizing to _him_.

His charity was just getting started. “If you want to talk, I’d be more than happy to listen. Whatever you wish to discuss. I won’t force you. I normally wouldn’t impose, but I don’t think being alone now would be good for you.”

Ravus already knew the answer before he asked. That wasn’t point. Ignis had to understand. “Why do you even care?” he hissed.

He may as well have slapped Ignis from the way the man recoiled. But it was Ignis and he recovered quickly. “Why wouldn’t I? Our association may have begun with ulterior motives but I think it’s moved well beyond that. I’ll admit you haven’t made it easy but over the weeks, we’ve established a rapport.”

“About Noctis. About the prophecy.” _Stop lying_.

“About many things,” Ignis countered. Softly - he wasn’t trying to win a fight. The last thing he thought this was was a fight. “I know being here is stirring your grief anew, but whatever dark thoughts it’s bringing out in you, please don’t indulge them. It’s not what your sister would have wanted.”

Ravus laughed. It was harsh, more of a bark than a laugh. Repudiating Niflheim, admitting all he had done was wrong was what Lunafreya had wanted from him. Except she hadn’t demanded the admission. She’d forgiven him but that had been in ignorance of what he’d actually done. She hadn’t wanted any details and he hadn’t wanted to give her any. Why list his crimes when their shared history held so much more import?

And here was Ignis offering the same preemptive forgiveness. Maybe Ravus should enlighten him. Scientias had served the royal family for generations. Obviously, Ignis had had family in Insomnia. How much of that family did he have still?

Ignis wasn’t wrong though. No ghosts lived here but Fenestela Manor was haunted all the same. Ravus had felt it with the first scent of smoke in the tunnel. It had been growing and growing until he could barely breathe from the weight. He’d felt that weight before at sixteen, kneeling by his mother’s corpse and trying to comprehend how quickly and violently his entire world had changed. He’d felt it upon seeing Lunafreya lying lifeless at the Altar. 

It welled up once more and Ravus reached for the one thing that had kept him from drowning all these years: his anger.

“You forgive me my sins because you have use for me,” he snarled. “But you don’t know the depths to which they run.”

“Ravus, please. I know you’re upset but we can work through this.”

“I told you I don’t want your pity.”

“And I told you that’s not what I’m offering. Please, just talk to me.”

“You wish to hear my confession?” Ravus could give it. And then not even Ignis could conjure a denial to wipe it away.

“Whatever you want to tell me, I’m here.”

_You asked. You wanted this_. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Ignis deemed the ignorance he let Noctis live in as bliss. This would let him know he was right.

“The treaty signing in Insomnia,” Ravus began.

It was almost comical how quickly Ignis blanched. The royal advisor was no fool. He picked up immediately where this was headed. He was just powerless to stop it.

“Ravus, you don’t have to do this.”

For once in his life, Ignis Scientia didn’t know what he was talking about. There really wasn’t a choice. This had to be done.

“It was my plan. Aldercapt and the others wanted to go for the long game, but I came up with the way to get them Lucis and the Crystal in one night. Noctis’s father, Amicitia’s father, your uncle, I believe? All of them together. One quick strike to end it all.”

There.

Now he could see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to everyone who commented/subscribed/book marked on the last chapter. As you can tell, chapters have been getting a little bit longer (this one topped out at 10K) so I've had to adjust the outline. Gonna try to keep this on a monthly update schedule but our boys are a rather wordy duo :)


	7. We Need to Talk About Ravus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis and Ravus have a long talk and Ignis has to make a choice.

_Never let anyone see they’ve rattled you_. That was the cardinal rule his uncle had once told Ignis. A royal advisor needed to wear a placid face of indifference, no matter what was being said or done around them. The sense of the advice had been evident and Ignis had taken it to heart. He’d gone so far as to practice his expressions in the mirror while his uncle and parents had bombarded him with scenarios ranging from horrifying to farcical. His mother had thrown in some tickling when he’d been younger. That practice hadn’t always made perfect but Ignis could say with pride that it had been only extreme circumstances that had caused his demeanor to crack. Circumstances such as near death brushes with daemons and beasts or Ardyn holding a knife above Noctis’s head.

_Or this_ , Ignis thought as he swayed unsteadily on his feet, an iron grip on his cane being the sole reason he was upright. He really, really wanted to sit down.

The simple act of finding a chair seemed near impossible. The study of the former Oracle was dark from the early night and a lack of interior light. Ravus hadn’t bothered with so much as a single lamp. So blended were all the shapes in here that if he hadn’t spoken, Ignis never would have known Ravus was among them. He still couldn’t tell exactly where Ravus was. He could ask about that and the location of a place to sit, but Ignis needed a moment, or many long moments, before he was ready to speak.

Not caring what it looked like, Ignis reached around in the darkness until he found the back of a chair and took slow, halting steps until he was at its front. Then he sank into it. He got no feedback on what was surely a clumsy effort. Ragged breathing coming from a few feet away was the only sign Ravus was here at all.

He hadn’t said a word since finishing his confession about Insomnia. As far as Ignis could tell, he hadn’t moved either. Ignis didn’t know what to make of any of it.

Old instincts told him to think about this logically. He’d known full well there was no way Ravus could have become High Commander of the Niflheim forces while keeping his hands clean. He’d known but hadn’t put much thought into it. Oh, he’d asked about Clarus Amicitia after working up his courage but upon getting the convenient scapegoat of Glauca, had tossed the chance for any further revelations aside. Ravus, knowing full well his indirect role in that death and in so many others, had let him.

_Of course he did_. Ravus had been trying to fit in with their group. _’Oh, by the way, I’m responsible for the killing of your loved ones and razing your hometown’_ wouldn’t have gone over well. Ignis couldn’t really fault him on keeping that one to himself, especially considering the example Ignis had set by hiding the grief fueled homicidal rage Ravus had felt towards Noctis at the Altar. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have let that slide as quickly as he had. Maybe he should have taken it for the huge, bright red flag that it was. Except Ravus hadn’t taken a step out of line since that day. Other than a dour attitude, he’d been on good behavior and an asset to their group. Helping him in the quarry, saving Prompto on the train - and Noct too as a byproduct - that hardly seemed like the same man who had plotted something so vile.

Didn’t seem but was. Ignis had to reconcile that.

He went back to logic. There was comfort in coldly compartmentalizing motives and explanations. It was certainly better than letting already tumultuous emotions go further astray. He’d have to name what those emotions were to begin with. The basic ones weren’t hard to name: shock, a sense of betrayal, of disappointment, grief of having this wound torn open anew and a very bitter salt thrown upon it. All expected, all could be dealt with in time. It was another feeling churning beneath the surface that made it so difficult to proceed. He’d offered friendship and thought it accepted. He’d thought they had a connection. He’d thought...

He didn’t know what the hell he’d been thinking. 

His uncle’s advice in mind, Ignis took long, steady breaths to compose himself. He didn’t need to focus on his own thoughts and emotions. Those were distractions. The best thing to do was to get an explanation - a damned good one - for what Ravus had been thinking and why.

Another breath and Ignis was as centered as he was going to get under the circumstances. Ravus’s breathing, on the other hand, had grown shallower and more rapid. Ignis wondered if he was on the verge of hyperventilating. A pang of worry hit him and he forced himself to ignore it. His concern had to be reserved for the task at hand. Whatever troubles Ravus was having had to be resolved solely to get him talking again. That was all.

To that end, he gave clipped instructions on how to calm oneself. Ignis expected he’d have to issue them at least twice but Ravus was surprisingly compliant, though it took awhile to have an effect. Ignis prepared a line of questioning, doing his best to ignore the struggle going on in front of him. His uncle, he thought, would have been proud.

_If he’d lived._ His status was technically unknown but only the most delusional optimist would expect a happy outcome. Ignis’s parents had gotten out of Insomnia and migrated with the rest of the survivors to Lestallum. They’d been battered, physically and mentally but they would recover. Had that not been the case, Ignis never would have been able to continue at all. Practiced demeanor or no. 

He tried for an even, detached tone in honor of his uncle’s guidance. He didn’t quite make it. “Tell me about your brilliant plan,” Ignis said in a bark when Ravus sounded settled enough to speak. 

“What do you want to know?” Ravus’s voice was raw and low. 

Another tactic Ignis had been taught was that he should assert his authority by demanding Ravus speak louder. A simple ‘speak up’ would do. He felt a failure for not being able to say it. He needed to get his shit together and figure out how he was going to handle this. Good cop only worked when there was a bad cop to contrast to. He couldn’t play both roles. He shouldn’t want to play good cop anyway.

Ignis compensated with harsh cop. “Why for starters? Did you hate Regis so much you’d slaughter his people out of spite?”

“That wasn’t part of it. I didn’t-” Ravus insisted ‘I didn’t’ one more time but couldn’t get out what the thing he didn’t do was. 

_Deep breath. Move to harsher cop_. “You didn’t what? You were so eager to start this tale, you owe it to me to finish.”

“Yes,” Ravus agreed. “I owe you.”

In fits and starts and a voice that dropped repeatedly to a whisper, Ravus detailed the plan that had brought ruin to Insomnia. ‘Countersign’ he called it and Ignis noted with both amusement and horror that he’d used a pun for its name. He insisted civilian casualties hadn’t been his intention, insisted again, and then admitted he should have expected it all along. 

The way he said it made Ignis think that it was the first time Ravus had acknowledged that part. Ignis’s professional side gave him points for coming clean. His compassionate side saw the guilt and pain that had driven Ravus to tell this terrible truth. All of him remembered the shock and distress he’d felt upon learning of Insomnia’s fall.

“And you did nothing to stop it? You didn’t try to dissuade Aldercapt from going beyond the limited coup you suggested?” This was turning into an interrogation. _Which it should be_ , he thought. He hated how much he knew it was true while wanting to deny it.

“What could I have done?” Ravus asked. It didn’t sound like a rhetorical question. It sounded like he expected Ignis to come up with a solution that, rather than absolving him, would have made his guilt all the worse. “Lunafreya was in the city. I never wanted any of that chaos to touch her.”

“Then what was the plan to keep her safe? You abandoned the Empire readily enough in Altissia. Why did you not do the same in Insomnia? What were you doing while that chaos was unfolding?”

The lack of an answer shook the self-command Ignis had gathered. Were there greater crimes left to be revealed? The blessing of his quick mind turned into a curse as possible scenarios came to him. Ravus never had explained how he’d gotten ahold of the Ring of the Lucii or the king’s sword. He’d named Glauca as Regis and Clarus Amicitia’s killer. Had that been an outright lie instead of the omission the Countersign plot had been?

Ignis felt his heart start to race. There was no avoiding this. Speaking steel while he stood upon quicksand, Ignis demanded the information he feared. “How did you come to wear to the Ring of Lucii?”

Ravus blamed Glauca again. “Aldercapt wanted the Ring. Glauca cut it off Regis’s hand. I thought it fate when the Ring tumbled from his severed finger to my feet. A sign that I was to wield its power.”

There was bitterness and shame in Ravus’s voice but Ignis didn’t detect any dishonesty. That would have defeated the purpose of the confession in the first place. The Ravus before him was the one who’d had spoken of his hopes and dreams for his sister while he’d wept openly over her body. Dazed by the vision Pryna had given him, Ignis had only been able to stand as a silent witness to that display of vulnerability. His instincts to reach out then had been tempered by a feeling he was intruding on a moment not meant for him.

And here they’d circled back into another context with a very similar meaning. Ravus was falling apart with only Ignis to behold it. But there was a difference that could not be denied. Ignis was no intruder. This had been meant for him. Mostly to drive him away, that was obvious. The bluntness had been in service to that intent, Ignis thought, not an attempt to hurt him. Ravus knew that Ignis was not a man to be deterred easily nor was he the sort to walk away without answers after so many questions had been raised. He’d need a good, severe shove to turn away.

Again, he was at odds with himself. The man who had lost family, friends and his home in the attack was tempted to leave anyway. The advisor in him wanted to delve further, get more information. A part of him he didn’t know what to call wanted to stay as well, for different motives.

That was the part of him that had picked and picked at Ravus for whatever crumbs of connection he could get and had savored what he’d found. That part wanted to believe that underneath the hostility of the truth, there was also a desperation. Ignis had come to know that Ravus was a cluster of contradictions, some of them dark as pitch but he had to believe the good ones were worth pursuing.

Or this was a bunch of bullshit he was telling himself because he didn’t want to admit a person whose help he needed and had come to care about wasn’t who Ignis had thought he was.

_Irrelevant_ , the voice of his uncle reminded him. _Facts first, feelings second_. Ignis pictured how others would handle it. Gladio would have stormed out instantly, or instantly after chewing Ravus out with the visual aid of an extra large sword from the armiger. Noct would be furious too, but his temper would cool and the compassion would come in. The timing of that shift could be unpredictable but he would get there.

None of them were here. Ignis could never forget the reason why that was so with his uncle, and he couldn’t help feel it was a twisted irony that the best way to honor him would be to follow his path. Going full advisor was the safest route too. He didn’t trust his emotions.

Regardless, he had to do something. _Carefully_.

“What did the Lucii say to you when you put on the Ring?” Ignis asked. He knew the cacophony that had run through his own head. The judgments, a simmering rage that they’d been called by one not of their own and finally, the begrudging, burning gift when they’d deemed him worthy.

Ignis heard the impact of metal against the wooden arm of a chair. “They let this speak for them.” 

“They let you live though. That’s not a kindness the Lucii usually give.”

“You call it a kindness?”

“Honestly? If they’d given me a choice between losing my sight or an arm, I would have gone with the arm. And they liked me. So yes, it’s a kindness.” So much for dispassion. That had come out downright snippy. It wasn’t entirely Ravus’s fault. Ignis would never undo the bargain he’d made with the Lucii, not at the cost of Noct’s life. If it came to it, he’d offer up anything to make another. A month on, his frustrations with his blindness were getting less and less by the day. But he couldn’t help wonder if the ancient kings could have been a little nicer to a person who had been trying to save their anointed scion. Punishing those who wished to put the Ring to nefarious use made sense. Frying the eyesight of one who only wished to serve was sort of, as Prompto had put it, a dick move.

Ignis’s next questions were as much to those wrathful spirits as it was to Ravus. “Why did the Lucii spare you? What were you intending to if they had granted you their power?”

“Does it matter?”

“I think it very much does.”

Ravus let out a small, resigned laugh. “You must already think the worst of me. Knowing me for an utter fool can hardly hurt.”

“A fool?” Ignis repeated. That didn’t come across as the beginning of another disturbing revelation. He kept his guard up though.

“I thought I could subvert the prophecy by taking it upon myself. If I could use the Ring’s power to end the darkness, Lunafreya wouldn’t have to forge the covenants. She wouldn’t have to sacrifice herself.”

“And how exactly did you plan on ending the darkness?”

“By ending Niflheim. The Empire trades in daemons, fosters them and the Starscourge. Eliminate Aldercapt, Ardyn and Glauca and what remained of the leadership would have torn itself apart to be the one to seize the reins of power. You heard the Commodore. Even though Aldercapt remains in command, the capital has fallen to chaos.”

“And the Deputy High Commander waltzing into Gralea with the Ring of the Lucii on his hand would have been a good candidate to take those reins and choke the Empire with them. A grand plan, but rather naive of you to think you could have eliminated those three without a hitch.”

“Naive. Childish. Stupid. I was so sure the power would be mine.”

“And if it had been? What then? How would you have dealt with all three before Niflheim dealt with you?”

Ravus let out a laugh, a singular note dripping in bitterness and disgust and directed entirely inward. “I should not have mocked Prompto’s choice in entertainment when my own delusions were so similarly ridiculous. Glauca I planned to take by surprise. Aldercapt is nothing without his guards. As for Ardyn, though I never believed his ‘man of no consequence’ act, I thought he was nevertheless a man.”

“And the presumption that the Lucii would grant you their favor?”

“I told you I was a fool. And I told you I was desperate. Lunafreya planned on using being in Lucis for the engagement as a front for waking the Astrals. I was out of time.”

It was a plausible story. It didn’t put Ravus in the best light, but it was several shades brighter than before he’d told it. There was a detail Ravus had omitted - a very important detail that could plunge it all back into black.

“What about King Regis? What would you have done with him?”

“Glauca had already wounded him.”

“Mortally? If you were going to take Glauca by surprise you would have had to go after him immediately after getting the Ring. I doubt he would have kept attacking against Regis. I know the king had a deft hand with a potion, severed fingers or no, so I’m going to ask one more time. What about King Regis?”

Ravus said nothing, which itself was an answer Ignis hadn’t wanted to hear. Two more times then.

“What about King Regis?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to do better than that.”

Ravus had been, up until now, amenable to Ignis’s questions, his tone when answering almost meek. On this sore issue though, irritation flared. “I said I didn’t know,” he shouted at Ignis. “What would you have me say? That I’m certain the Lucii would have enlightened me to the faultless glory of Regis Lucis Caelum and I would have spared him? Or perhaps you wish me to lie and claim my resentment of him was all a ruse? He knew the threat he brought to Tenebrae when he came here. And when he’d gotten what he wanted, he left us to deal with the consequences.”

“He had to save his son.”

“And I had to save my sister. That doesn’t make either of us righteous.”

That took Ignis aback. His familiarity with the late king mostly came secondhand through his relationship with Noct and was therefore limited. On occasion, Ignis had sat in on councils with the plan to become a permanent member. Eventually, he would have been taken into Regis’s confidence to help soothe the future transition between king and prince. Back then though, everyone had assumed the future was further away. The only real time Ignis had been consulted was when Regis had asked him what he thought of the engagement. Ignis had offered a carefully worded assessment of Noct’s maturity and more blunt thoughts on Niflheim. He’d been aware that Regis was scrutinizing him along with Noctis. That scrutiny had gone both ways. Ignis remembered the distance that had settled into the king’s eyes and voice when he’d spoken about Lady Lunafreya.

“I think Regis may have agreed with you,” Ignis began. He relayed the conversation with Regis, confused as to what point he was trying to make but intent on making it.

As hot as the fire of Ravus’s anger could burn, it was just as quick to bank. It continued to smolder, yes, but the yelling stopped and out came the core of his grudge. “Do you think I never understood his wish to save his son? I’m not that great a fool. Noctis talked about him over and over while he was here. His father, the great, powerful king. The man who could join his magic with the Crystal to create a barrier strong enough to withstand an entire fleet. The man who could conjure the weapons of his ancestors with a thought. A man who wore the accumulated power of those same ancestors in a ring. And when I begged for his help, he couldn’t spare any of it. He knew what it would mean for Niflheim to catch him outside of his cloister of Insomnia. He should have been prepared. But when the foreseeable came, all he could do was scurry away like a panicked mouse.”

There it was. Power. Ravus’s expectations for seizing it to protect his sister and his condemnation of Regis’s supposed failure to wield it all wrapped together in a large, angry knot. To untie it would take sympathy and insights that, before he’d entered this room, Ignis would have eagerly offered. And after. They were there already, on the tip of his tongue.

This had to stop. Ignis had worked so bloody hard to hone a pragmatic nature, he needed to use it. Naturally, all of Ravus’s actions had explanations behind them. Many of them were sympathetic. That didn’t mean they were excused.

That didn’t mean he had to be damned for them either.

Unsure, unable or unwilling to make that call, Ignis stalled by falling back into an interrogation, this time of himself. 

_Why am I even doing this?_

_Because I want the truth._

_The truth is he planned the destruction of Insomnia._

_No, he planned to eliminate King Regis and his council. Niflheim plotted the rest._

_He served Niflheim and you don’t get brownie points for only wanting to kill a few people instead of many._

_In a war though, that is a consideration. Sparing the citizenry to strike at the rulers._

_Yes, so bloody noble._

_He was trying to save his sister._

_There’s that nobility again. Still ended in death and devastation._

_He clearly feels guilty._

_He should._

_And what do I feel?_

_Don’t have the first damned clue._

That went less than nowhere. Why was he questioning his feelings? He’d already established he had to get the facts.

_Which are?_

_A magical dog told me Noct is going to die. I need to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen._

_Ravus already agreed to give you the books. He’s not in a state to renege on that promise._

_And I’m not in a state to go through them on my own._

_Gladio likes to read._

_Sure, and he’d be happy to help after I crush his soul with this news. He also wasn’t raised around the Oracle and doesn’t know as much about prophecy and the Astrals as Ravus._

So there was that fact. He still needed Ravus, or rather, had use of him. Saving Noctis was a greater good worth setting aside personal feelings for to get them back to a working relationship.

Except there was this nagging feeling that he wasn’t setting aside anything. There wouldn’t be any turmoil if he didn’t care. The facts he had listed were cut and dry with a logical conclusion. Unless he’d forced that conclusion because of his giant tangle of emotions.

_What a blessing it is to be so clever you can talk yourself into being stupid_ , Ignis thought cynically. He could spin in these circles forever until the even larger mess that Ravus was would start wondering if something was wrong with him.

_Six, aren’t we a pair?_. And they had been this past month. A pair of what exactly was wildly up in the air, but Ignis would never learn leaving it like that. Bottom line? He did want to learn. Bottom line again? If he was going to err, he would rather it be on the side of compassion. Whatever came of that, he’d deal with it.

“You should realize,” he said, “the Ring doesn’t bequeath the kind of power you fancied. For a moment yes, I felt like half a god, but it was fleeting, it didn’t finish the job and you know the price I paid. I imagine it’s different for an actual Lucian king but likely not different enough to fend off a battalion while keeping Noctis safe. In retrospect, you’re right. He shouldn’t have gone to Tenebrae in person. He should have sent Clarus or Cor to pick up Noctis. But that’s hindsight. He thought he’d taken enough precautions to keep his movements secret. He didn’t know Drautus was relaying every step to Niflheim. And when all hell broke loose, maybe he did panic. Because he just didn’t have the power to stop it, not anymore than you did.”

Ravus uttered a few clipped syllables, stumbled over finishing them, then made another effort that lasted a few words before dying out. He was either tired of arguing his opinions on Regis or maybe, Ignis prayed, he was finally letting go. Either way, it was no longer relevant. His hatred of the king was a symptom, not the disease.

“They gathered us of all together in the garden once it was over,” he told Ignis. “Already, they’d decided on the lie of an accident. Already, they’d decided on the charity of a Niflheim regent since Lunafreya was too young to rule. By morning, they’d taken our titles. There were those who protested. They were silenced with a gestured command from Glauca. He stalked through the Manor as if it were his, dictating how our lives were to change. All the while, he wore that damned armor. Untouchable.”

It had been the same in Lucian territories that had fallen to Niflheim, a well-oiled performance of their might followed by violent examples being made of anyone who took issue with it. Lucians being persistent by nature, they’d been a lot of examples until the territories had figured out that help from the capital wasn’t coming and all the Nifs wanted was for everyone to behave like frightened dogs with their tails tucked between their legs and then everybody could live unhappily ever after. The lack of aid from Insomnia hadn’t been from a lack of care for its lost people but the basic math of it being impossible to defend so much land from a larger, virtually inexhaustible army.

That had shaken the people’s faith in the king, increasingly so the further one got from Insomnia. Their loyalty too, as evident from the stories of the traitorous Glaives Cor had told them.

It had seemed so irrational to Ignis, to lash out at the person who had tried to protect you but failed instead of the ones who had attacked you in the first place. That was a perspective born out of the safety of living within the capital city - a perspective that shifted while Ravus recounted the measures Niflheim had taken to secure Tenebrae as theirs.

“They made it clear that while they wished that Lunafreya would become the Oracle,” Ravus said, “certain precautions had to be taken to ensure her safety until her ascension or another tragic accident could occur. I did what I could. I obeyed their requests. I tried to put myself between Lunafreya and the officers they stationed here. But what use could I truly be to her when the only use I had to Niflheim was as a hostage to be threatened when she wouldn’t comply? I wasn’t a shield for her. I was cudgel to be used against her.”

“Until you joined the empire,” Ignis finished for him. 

“The more I did for them, the more I could do for her. I saw no other way.”

Ignis contemplated the alternatives. The majority of Tenebrae had been claimed as an independent Niflheim territory centuries ago with Fenestala Manor having a technical status of autonomy. The asterisk beside that designation boiled down to ‘we’ll let the Oracle pretend she’s in charge because it’s a bad look to shackle Eos’s most beloved figure’. Once Niflheim had decided to clear that PR hurdle, there wasn’t much that could done to oppose it. Tenebrae hadn’t had much of a military since being annexed. Guards for the Oracle were all Niflheim had allowed. Rebellion would have been so impractical as to be suicidal. Tenebrae’s population was disjointed which may have made for effective guerilla tactics if not for the mountainous terrain being virtually designed to be invaded by dropship, or bombed as per the regards Ardyn had sent.

His beloved logic said that Ravus’s choice made sense. That the choice had led to Insomnia’s destruction was the thorn of contention that couldn’t be easily removed. Ignis picked at it nonetheless, completely lost as to which side of him was doing it and why.

“When did you realize Niflheim’s full intentions for Insomnia?”

“When did I admit it or at what point should I have known?”

“Was it that long between the two?”

“You know what happened and the power that would be required to make it so. Such forces aren’t assembled in a day.”

“So you did what about it?”

“Ignored it or made excuses when I could not. I had my objective in the Ring. I didn’t see anything else.”

“And the king’s sword? How did you get that?”

“I asked Aldercapt for it. I don’t know who retrieved it but he had with him when I next saw in Gralea.”

“You didn’t take it?”

“You know the pain use of the Ring elicits. My arm was gone. I was barely conscious. Do you think I got up and began searching for Regis’s corpse to pilfer?”

That was unlikely. Heaven knows how heavily Ignis had leaned upon Prompto after they’d left the Altar. Ravus had his sympathy though Ignis didn’t say it. This quick volley of questions and answers had him more focused than he’d been since they’d started talking. He didn’t want to lose that.

“What did Aldercapt want with the sword?”

“A trophy.”

“And you?”

“Partially the same. Mostly because Aldercapt wasn’t worthy of it. I also knew what Lunafreya would have thought of it.”

“So do you believe Noctis is worthy or did you give it back merely to ingratiate yourself to us?”

“It is as I said. I promised Lunafreya I would give him the sword if he earned Leviathan’s blessing.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question.”

“He’s...not who I expected him to be. Or more precisely, who I had imagined him to be.”

That wasn’t a thorough answer either but Ignis could read between the lines. He hadn’t imagined that Ravus was warming to Noctis. He didn’t see the need to push for that exact wording. There was so much more to go through and it was getting late. An exhaustion both physical and mental was creeping into Ignis. He knew though that calling it a night wouldn’t solve a thing. There was no way he was getting any sleep with his mixed emotions bouncing back forth and leaving him all the more muddled for it. He had no idea if the openness Ravus was showing would come back if he shut it down either. 

They both had benefited from the rapid fire exchange. With the past covered fairly well, perhaps it was time to dig into the present in the same manner. From there, they could find out what future might come of it.

Ignis started with a question he’d already answered himself. He just wanted to know if Ravus would be honest about it. You could tell a lot from what a person refused to admit. “What did you want from me by telling me about Insomnia?”

“Nothing. I thought you deserved to know.”

“All of us deserved to know ever since it happened yet you’ve spent the last month with us without a word. But today, after running out of the library like you’d seen a ghost and acting so oddly that Noctis thought you were ill, you’re suddenly in a sharing mood?”

“Would you prefer I had kept silent? I’m aware of your fondness for omissions.”

“Ah, there, you’re trying to antagonize me again. I’m wounded you think I’d fall for such rudimentary tactics. I thought you respected me more than that.”

There was a huff and the scrape of the legs of the chair against the floor, the first movement Ignis had registered from Ravus. If you can’t make somebody go away, the next best thing is to leave, Ignis supposed. It was too dark to track him. He had to rely on the report of heavy bootsteps growing distant and returning again. Ignis must be getting close to an awfully sensitive nerve to bring out the irritated pacing. He was wondering how long to give Ravus to walk it off when Ravus switched from answers to a cross-examination.

“What would you have done? With Noctis’s life at stake, would you have thrown in with the Empire?”

The question reeked of being a trap and if Ravus had started the conversation with it, Ignis wouldn’t have gone near it. As it was, he circled around with caution. “If this is leading up to a ‘we’re not so different, you and I’ sort of thing and you expect that revelation to prompt me into giving you absolution, please rethink that strategy. I really hate that cliche.” He’d conceded the basic premise to himself but still, he did hate the cliche.

“You think I want forgiveness handed to me as casually as that? You think that would mean anything to me?”

“Then tell me what you want. I asked why you told me and you refused to answer. I could guess but we’re beyond games at this point. Aren’t we?” he added the last quietly. Because if they weren’t, if Ignis didn’t get whatever nebulous thing he was searching for in this exchange, he was going to have to admit that cutting his losses was on the table.

The severity of that option hit him in the gut. It was not a thought he wished to entertain.

He made one more entreaty to Ravus to just be out with everything. Knowing damn well Ravus’s stubborn nature, he fell short of making it an ultimatum. He didn’t want push back. He wanted… _push forward?_.

“I want you to answer me,” Ravus said with weariness. “Noctis’s life against the life of an innocent? What would you chose?”

Hypotheticals could make for fun mental exercises but this one was tortuous. Some things couldn’t be decided until you faced them. He wanted to believe he could never, would never get into a situation where that kind of choice would have to be made. What was the point in being so bloody clever otherwise? And yet...

Ignis had said he wouldn’t guess but Ravus hadn’t made the same promise. Before Ignis could form an answer, a rather accurate one was given for him. “I’m sure you believe it’s a choice you’ll not have to make. There are lines you will not cross so you will find other ways to bridge them. You’re a smart man. Likely you will find solutions. For awhile. Until the day comes when you’re backed into a corner and you tell yourself you have no choice. That’s a lie, Ignis. You will make your choice. You will feel regret. And when the choice comes again, nothing will change, save how quickly the choice and the lie come. Over and over until you needn’t make any choice at all.

“But that’s another lie,” Ravus continued. “There’s always a choice. And when all that you’ve done comes to naught, those choices will be all you have left.”

_And you end up sitting alone in the dark chasing away anyone who would want to help you_ , Ignis finished in his head. He’d always known that Ravus’s warning back at the library had first hand knowledge behind it. Not contemplating the details of that knowledge had bit him in the ass. There were excuses for that too. He’d written off stealing old texts that nobody had read in ages without a problem. He still thought it was trivial offense. Plotting the destruction of a city with a massive population wasn’t even in the neighborhood of trivial but it hadn’t been the first choice Ravus had made. He’d likely started small too.

“Perhaps that’s true,” Ignis said after a long silence. “And perhaps I understand and empathize to a degree that I shouldn’t given what your actions cost me and the people I care about but I can’t help it. I don’t know if that means I can forgive you. I know it won’t happen easily.”

“I don’t expect forgiveness.”

“You want it though. You must to tell me all this. I know this began because your guilt was telling you to shove me away, but the rest…”

“I thought you weren’t going to guess my motives.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t make them so obvious,” Ignis said in a snit. He couldn’t say who the frustration was aimed at. “Lashing out, everything you told me about your past, and then asking me about Noctis like that - what else am I to think?”

“I imagine most wouldn’t have bothered to think on it at all. I’ve not encountered many who would have cared to listen and none who would try to understand.”

“I didn’t think the Niflheim military was a breeding ground for empathy.”

“I didn’t mean them.” Ravus’s pacing stopped. Ignis could tell from his voice he was facing away. Even in the darkness, Ravus didn’t want to be seen. “In my arguments with Lunafreya, I feared she would never comprehend why I was doing what I was doing as much as I feared that she would. Then she would know how far I was willing to go. She was so ready to sacrifice herself the notion of sacrificing others was anathema to her. That was _her_ choice. Noctis and the world were worth dying for. I never had the nerve to ask her what was worth living for.”

That put Ignis at a rare loss for words. A noble, ideal king would trade his life for his people without hesitation. Duty, above all. Ignis himself had drilled that message into Noct’s head. But that had been over such trivial things. Studying over playing video games. Training over going fishing. Meeting with officials over hanging out with friends. In the face of his ultimate duty being death, those trivial things became everything. Noct, despite the position of his birth, had chosen a normal life of common pleasures and a handful of close friends. But the joy he’d found and shared with them was worth fighting for. It was worth living for.

Objectively, he should be proud that Noctis could and would chose to save the world by sacrificing himself. Subjectively, Ignis’s breath caught in his throat.

What choices would Ignis make indeed. Because if it came down to it, if he couldn’t find another path or some kind of loophole that would save Noctis and the sacrifice had to be made, Ignis couldn’t say for certain what _his_ choice would be. One life compared to many should be a straightforward decision. That it wasn’t, that Ignis had already asked Noctis to abandon their journey once, gave him pause. 

_Okay, so we’re really not so different, him and I, and if I’m weighing Noctis against the entire bloody planet, his sister against one city suddenly becomes a lot more understandable_. That the city had been Insomnia ate at him. He didn’t know if it was because of lingering anger over what he’d lost or his increasing cognizance that there was a chance that someday, somebody might be raging at him for what they’d lost.

“Would you do it again?” Ignis asked Ravus. “Serving Niflheim, attacking Insomnia, going after the Astrals?”

“Knowing it would all fail or believing I had a chance to change it this time?” He returned to his chair, sitting slowly and taking the time to consider. “I know serving bought Lunafreya time. I know it bought her protection. That I would never change. The rest, I don’t even know what I could change. My family has always believed in fate as decreed by the gods, and no matter how vehemently I rejected that notion, I could not defy it. This mission I’ve joined you on, I fear we’re both fools.”

“No, it can’t be foolish to try.”

“That’s what I told myself before. Fate disagreed.”

“I refuse to believe a voice from a rock relayed by a dying magic dog is an immutable force that can’t be fought.”

“You think the gods care what you believe? Lunafreya’s fate was sealed from the second she was born and I denied it because I loved her but nothing changed. You deny Noctis’s fate because you’re in love with him, but what are your wishes compared to the fiat of destiny?”

Ignis had an answer to that but stumbled over it when what Ravus had said sunk in. It wasn’t the first time someone had accused him of being in love with Noctis. In fact, he was batting a thousand in terms of ex-boyfriends who’d said the same thing. Some of them had left it to passive aggressive insinuations. Others had outright screamed it at him. However delivered, it had played a large part in the ‘this isn’t working’ conversations that had ended all of those relationships.

Ignis had chalked it up to none of them really getting him. He had his duty. He had his friendship. Of course Noctis took up a large section of his life. He’d never hidden that from any of them and it was on them if they hadn’t been able to handle that. At least that was the excuse he used when it was two in the morning and he was sleeping alone again.

That same misunderstanding coming up again and that it had come from Ravus bothered him. That he was bothered at all by the latter irritated him further. “I’m not in love with Noctis. I thought I made my feelings clear for him when we talked in the library.”

“Yes, your soliloquy on his virtues was quite touching.”

“He’s a little brother to me. I think you of all people would how deep that devotion can run.”

Ravus said nothing and Ignis got the distinct feeling he was staring at him, likely baffled as to why they were on this tangent to begin with. _Join the party_ , Ignis thought, though if he were being honest, he wasn’t that baffled. 

“I just wanted that to be clear,” Ignis finished weakly. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Ravus responded. “Not to the gods. Civilizations have risen and fallen to the whims of their love and hatred but our feelings are a trifle in their grand designs.”

“They agreed to help Noct. Perhaps there’s a way to make them listen.”

“Would you have Noctis summon them for a chat? He calls them forth for combat, then they disappear back into the ether. Their sole interest in him is keeping him alive so he can do their bidding. A lamb being fattened for the slaughter. The concerns of his shepherds mean nothing.”

Ravus said that with a sneer, a far cry from the reverent tenor those of the Oracle line had used in the past when speaking of the Astrals. And he had tried to kill a couple of them. Those kind of drastic lengths required more than a desire to save his sister. There was a grudge there.

“Your distaste for the Astrals,” Ignis said, “I know you said you abandoned your faith but it seems to run deeper than that.”

“Generation after generation of my family has served without question. I offered my prayers and my devotion every day. Gentiana presented herself as a second mother to Lunafreya. Umbra and Pryna were loyal companions. Other Messengers appeared, all proclaiming the same fealty to my sister. But none of them were there when any of us needed them. Gentiana led her about on the very quest that weakened her and for all her ability to come and go like the wind, didn’t set foot on that altar as Lunafreya died.”

Ignis couldn’t blame him for that bitterness. Noctis had his own Messenger of a sort, a furry little animal he called Carbuncle. Hand to heart, Ignis had thought it was an imaginary friend Noctis had conjured up to deal with the trauma of the marilith attack. He’d held that belief for years, humoring Noctis while wishing he’d grow out of it already, until the day he’d been observing a training session. Noct had tripped and fallen at an unfortunate angle right into the arc of Gladio’s sword and before anyone had had the chance to react, there’d been a fluffy blue fox perched on the edge of the now grounded blade. Ignis had happily eaten that crow. After leaving Insomnia, Ignis had spotted the creature more often, especially in times when the combat had been heading south. Wherever this Carbuncle came from, it made damn sure to be there for Noct when he needed it.

Had Lady Lunafreya’s Messengers ever offered her similar aid? Ravus didn’t think so and the proof of Fenestala Manor’s fall and the Oracle’s death in Altissia were hard to argue against. Pryna had stuck around to give Ignis that wretched vision but what had she done before that?

“Perhaps it’s not for the divine to intercede with the mortal,” Ignis mused aloud. Carbuncle was the exception, not the rule.

Ravus snorted in disgust. “Damning my sister and Noctis to die as if they are pieces upon a chess board to be moved on a predetermined path of a game played and decided thousands of years ago is an intercession of the highest degree.”

“I didn’t say it was right or not hypocritical. Believe me, my opinion on the gods hasn’t changed. I was just wondering if they had some sort of rules they must abide by.”

“They and their rules can be damned.”

“Or maybe their rules can be changed. Noctis has a covenant with them. Instead of damning them, if we can find a way to work with them-”

“Don’t be naive.”

“Don’t be so dismissive. I need to explore every avenue I can. Don’t let your anger cloud your judgment.”

Ravus snorted again. “My anger keeps me focused.”

“I think it’s blinded you. Take it from someone who knows. That’s not a good thing.”

How well he’d adapted so far aside, frustrations remained. He was sure this conversation would have been easier if he could have read Ravus’s body language. Sincerity or deception, external or internal, could be discerned from so many cues. It would have helped to separate the small lies Ravus had told to turn him away from the larger truths of his broken conscience. He could only hope Ravus was listening to him and piecing that conscience back together.

“It’s all I’ve had for so long,” Ravus said. “After my mother died, after we were placed under Niflheim’s thumb, I saw only two paths before me. I could live in fear of losing what little I had left and stand paralyzed as it was taken away. Or I could rage against everything and everyone who had caused my pain and let that rage fuel me. I couldn’t have survived in the military without it.”

“Yet-” Ignis interjected.

“Yet,” Ravus continued. “I still lost everything and now that rage is greater than ever and I don’t know what to do with it.” 

“So all this was spreading it around. Against me. Against yourself.”

“For all the good that it does me.” After another long silence and a shuddering breath, Ravus admitted his deepest truth. “I am so tired of being angry, Ignis. I can’t do it anymore. But I can barely remember who I used to be and I certainly don’t know how to be that person again.”

He’d leaned forward during that confession. Ignis had felt Ravus move closer, heard his voice grow slightly louder. Judging him to be only a few inches away, Ignis reached out a hand and found Ravus’s knee. He kept his hand there, both as a gesture of comfort and to see if Ravus would rebuff it. To his surprise, he felt Ravus place his natural hand atop his own and clutch it tight.

“You’ve shown me more kindness than I have known in a long time, more than I’ve deserved,” Ravus said. “I’m sorry I’ve repaid you with petulance and cruelty.”

“I’m sorry too that you felt it had to be that way.”

“I don’t know how else to move forward.”

That was the big question, wasn’t it? Ignis had wanted to know if he could ever forgive Ravus or work with him again with the knowledge of what he had done to Insomnia forever stuck in his head. All the warring parts of him had their own solutions. He had to pick one lest he drive himself mad with endless internal debating. He had to pick one to find his own way forward.

King’s Regis words echoed in his head. He’d want his son saved period, just as Ignis did. Forgiveness wouldn’t be the issue. Trust would. Did his past deeds preclude extending trust in the present? Ignis thought no. Ravus had had his back in the quarry. He’d had Prompto’s back on the train. Admitting what he’d done wasn’t part of a long con. It had started as a cheap attempt to run Ignis off, but had ended in a profound baring of his soul. Even the Lucii had found something within him that was worthy of mercy. Trust was there. 

Ignis thought then of his own words when he’d tried to convince the others to let Ravus join them. _I was thinking people can do awful things for noble reasons. I was thinking once someone realizes the error of that way, they can change and possibly redeem themselves_.

That was more than a line in a pitch. He believed what he’d said. Redemption wasn’t easy to earn, but it could be earned, absolutely. Ignis had standards for it, more argued with his friends about movie and TV characters than a living, breathing person, but he’d developed them with the careful consideration he put into everything. Accountability, remorse and atonement - just three words but three massive steps for someone to make. 

They wouldn’t be here if Ravus hadn’t been struggling with his remorse. Through that had come his confession. All that was left were the amends, which, if he did help save Noct, Ignis would consider them well and thoroughly earned. 

There it was in a neat, logical bow. Every justification he would need to have Ravus to continue on with them. All of them delivered without Ignis having to address the underlying reason why he’d fought with himself to find them. He might not have to say it to Ravus yet, but he shouldn’t play pretend with his own conscience. Because he did have the first damned clue along with several others.

He wanted Ravus to stay with them. He wanted Ravus’s help. He wanted Ravus’s friendship. He wanted more than that. 

He'd wanted Ravus. He wanted. Deep, dark no longer secrets and all. Conflict and all. _What a bloody big mess this is_ , he thought. Good thing Ignis was excellent at cleaning messes up. There was a not insubstantial chance he’d make a hash out of fixing this particular mess. That wasn’t a reason not to try.

“There’s more than fear and anger,” Ignis said. “I am terrified and furious of what is supposed to come, but I will let my love for my friends and a hope that I can change things drive me forward.”

“Another soliloquy,” Ravus said with a nervous, choked laugh. “You are quite good at them.”

Ignis smiled. His relief from making up his mind was growing. “I mean it. You said you joined me to serve your sister’s wishes. Rejoin me for your own. Find peace for Insomnia in helping her king. Find peace for your wrongs by doing what is right.”

“Your friends...once they know…”

And here Ignis was again with information his friends - _his brothers_ \- should know. Unlike the prophecy, it wasn’t his burden to share it. “I won’t tell them. That’s on you, when or if you chose to do so.”

“And if I chose not to?”

“That’s on your conscience. Just chose what you chose to do for the right reasons. Don’t think that you’ll lighten your soul by darkening theirs.”

“You mean repeat what I did to you.”

“That would be the gist, yes.”

“I want to believe what you say is possible. I promise you I will try.”

With that, any stubborn pieces of Ignis still bristling and doubting settled. There was just him, sitting in the dark, holding onto Ravus and convinced that he’d been right.

They would move forward, exactly as he’d said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I rewrote this chapter more than I've ever rewritten anything in my life. It started out as part of the previous chapter, which is why there's so much of Ravus explaining himself, but that chapter had already gotten too long and I thought this part worked better in Ignis's POV anyway. On the plus side, while I struggled with rewrites, I got most of the next chapter and a one shot already written. And hey, we've progressed to hand holding. This slow burn is starting to heat up! :)


	8. 3:10 to Gralea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All aboard for the trip to Gralea.

It was only a few hours short of morning when they left the study. There had been more discussion and about as much silence from contemplation and stolen moments of dozing, but they’d reached a point where Ravus was ready.

The gardens had cleared as most of the evacuated had gone to the camp Aranea had established to spend the night. At some point, likely in search of Noctis, Gladio had come from the train station. Ignis hoped he hadn’t spent the entire night waiting. He was by the lone transport ship there and yelled for Ignis to join him. Ravus, subdued and undecided on when or if he would tell the rest what he had told Ignis about Insomnia, trailed behind. 

_Wait for the right time_ , Ignis had advised him. He wasn’t sure what a right time would be. Sometime between after they’d been to Gralea and recovered the Crystal and before getting into his deathbed, Ignis supposed. An emotional Ravus wasn’t a predictable Ravus but he’d given a promise to run any further confessions by Ignis first along with an apology for placing this burden on him. The acknowledgement of what this secret cost made it less difficult to keep. Hearing Gladio be so happy to see him was a reminder that it didn’t make it easy. 

“Missed dinner last night,” Gladio informed them. “There’s only crappy rations left over unless you want to wait until we get back to the train. I know I’m a reader, but maybe don’t spend so much time looking at books in a burning building.”

“My reading speed is quite slow these days,” Ignis said. “In any subsequent infernos, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Sorry man, you know what I meant. But next time, let me know where and how long you’re going to be. Noct said not to worry, but there were literally flames shooting out of one side of the building. What were you up to?”

“My apologies,” Ravus volunteered. “There were personal and familial items I wished to secure.”

That was a suitable cover story, Ignis thought. Gladio bought it, or didn’t want to argue over it. Ignis couldn’t pick out any bright spots indicating fires, so they all must have died out. That hadn’t left the gardens a pleasant place to remain. Smoke hung thick in the air. It was clearer inside than out, a point Ignis made in regards on where to eat those crappy rations and scrounge up a cup of coffee. 

That idea was soundly rejected by a Gladio who was eager to get going. “Ebony’s on the train and we should be too. We can catch up on our sleep better in those cushy train cars too.”

He had waited the entire night. Ignis could hardly repay that concern by delaying. He sensed there wasn’t much here right now for anyone anyway.

Inside the ship, Ignis heard the familiar noises of Prompto and Noctis’s snoring. It hadn’t been that loud when they’d shared a tent but on a metal ship, the sound echoed. “So that’s why you were up all night,” Ignis said to Gladio as he gestured over towards the source .

“Yeah, it’s real hard to lay awake worrying your best friend is being burned to death while somebody’s cuttin’ logs nearby.”

“There wasn’t any fire where we were at, for the record. Unless you suspected we were tossing ice flasks around in between cataloging heirlooms.” The ease with which he’d slid into following the cover story was worrisome, but he’d committed. And it was a teeny white lie. It was about something gargantuan and black but that was a can of worms that needed to stay shut. “I apologize as well,” Ignis added guiltily. “I should have called or texted when I realized how long I was going to take.”

Gladio didn’t mind, pinging his guilt that much more. “Service sucks up here anyway. Doubt you would have gotten through. Prompto missed his daily farming quests. It was a real tragedy.”

A groan and the complaint, “Do any of you ever stop yammering?” came from the cockpit of the ship. The shape of Aranea Highwind stood up from the pilot’s chair and stretched. Another person they’d kept waiting.

She wasn’t bothered by that but there was a grievance that had her poking Ignis in the shoulder. “Hey, I thought you were the mother hen. One of your chicks wouldn’t stop clucking.”

“And that means…?”

“Prompto took issue with her itinerary,” Gladio helpfully supplied.

Going to a secluded laboratory by herself during what appeared to be a daemon outbreak hadn’t sounded like the smartest move. Ravus had outright questioned the wisdom of it. Aranea was a capable woman though, with her own issues to deal with, and Ignis respected that, finger prods and all. Prompto probably respected that too. That wouldn’t stop him from worrying himself sick about it.

“I would have taken off already if it weren’t for this side trip,” Aranea said. “Or if I trusted any of you to fly one of my ships without blowing something up. I figure replacement parts are gonna get real hard to come by real soon.”

“Keep your fleet here.” Everyone turned towards Ravus. That had been the loudest Ignis had heard him speak in hours. 

“I doubt the dire situation you described has improved,” Ravus continued. “It’s far more likely to have worsened. We have a need to travel to Gralea that can’t be set aside. Once we’re in Zegnautus we can gather the information you need. You have to acknowledge going to the labs with intelligence is preferable to the alternative.”

“What he said,” a newly awake Prompto said through a yawn.

Aranea threw up her hands. “Great, now there’s two of you. Go back to being an asshole, High Commander. It’s actually less annoying.”

“That’s no longer my title.” That was less a correction than a regret that it had ever been true.

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. I’m also not stupid. If things look real bad, I’ll get out.”

“Shouldn’t you look before you leap? Literally, in your case,” Ignis asked her.

“Should have known you’d join in. Somebody want to wake up Sleeping Beauty and see if he’s got an opinion?”

Nobody woke up Noctis, not even accidentally through the bickering that ensued. On one side, going in alone was dangerous as hell. On the other, not checking out the labs might lead to more danger in the future, especially for people unequipped to deal with it. 

There was a third side. It sounded awfully familiar to Ignis though Aranea was the person arguing it. “Look, I captured a lot of the damn daemons the Empire used to create this mess. Putting them down is the least of my responsibilities. I’m not gonna sit safe and snug in a ship while all hell is going on below me.”

That should have settled it. Oddly, the one person who would understand Aranea’s need for atonement best was the one who didn’t let it drop. “If you could serve a greater purpose elsewhere,” Ravus asked, “would it persuade you to stay?”

“Seriously, this nice thing? Creepier than the scowly thing.”

Undaunted, Ravus continued. “You’ve done well helping my people after the attack but the work isn’t over. The encampment by the station is only temporary shelter. The manor will need to be secured. Any who wish to leave will need safe transport. You are in a unique position to provide for all of those needs.”

“You wanna put me in charge of Tenebrae? While you, the lord or prince or whatever of Tenebrae, go off to the daemon craphole that’s too dangerous for lil’ ole me?”

“He’s not going there alone. Safety in numbers, you know,” Prompto added. He never was one to pass up an opening.

“If it’s payment you require, there are numerous treasures within the manor-”

“Nuh-uh. I am not looting your childhood home. I’m a mercenary, not a thief. And if this is how you want to roll, why don’t you stay here while I take the boys into Gralea?”

“Please, I believe my arrangement is for the best.” Ravus didn’t say more and neither did Aranea. Ignis got the impression of an exchange of meaningful looks. He knew why Ravus wanted to go to Gralea but the protectiveness of Aranea was surprising, in a good way. They’d turned more than one corner last night. 

The face off was broken unexpectedly by Prompto. “Are the Nifs here even going to listen to Ravus like they do you, Aranea? They’re your personal crew, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Aranea sighed. “Except for Tummelt’s bunch. But they like me better than him anyway. Guess you win, Not High Commander. You better come through on that intel though.”

Ravus thanked her and promised to send her any information they could find. Prompto, rather pleased by the outcome and his role in it, made his own pledge.

“Shouldn’t worry so much, Blondie,” Aranea said in lieu of thanks. “Stunts your growth.”

“I’m not going to stop worrying about my friends,” Prompto mumbled. “I mean-”

“I know what you mean. It’s not that you think I can’t take on the scary, scary daemons by myself. It’s that you’re a big, sweet bundle of anxieties that can’t help but to work yourself into a tizzy. It’s precious, and I’m flattered you care, but really, for your own good, learn to chill.”

Aranea walked back to the cockpit. She said she’d take them back to station and from there, her two subordinates would take them into Gralea on the train. “While I rule Tenebrae with an iron fist,” she added with a fake sinister laugh.

“Not rule,” Ravus said. “Assist. And it’s temporary.”

“We’ll see.”

That managed to draw out an amused ‘humph’ from Ravus. Small as it was, it was a relief to hear it. Ignis thought he should come up with more jokes about Aranea’s impending tyrannical reign. There had to be a pun he could use in Aranea's iron fist comment. 

The trip back was quiet save for more snoring from an oblivious Noctis and Prompto occasionally wondering aloud how Aranea had read him so well. There was an exchange when they landed that stunned Ignis.

“Hey, sorry about your home,” Gladio said to Ravus. “I imagine part of this was payback for you helping us out.”

A shocked Ravus fumbled through a response. “I...no, I...I imagine Ardyn would have done this regardless...to hurt Noctis, at the least. But...thank you.”

Gladio must have thought that was it because he began to disembark but Ravus stopped him. He had more to say. “I know this comes far too late and likely means little to nothing to you, but I too...I’m sorry for your home as well.”

No one moved or spoke a word. Prompto had been trying to rouse Noctis by whispering his name in various voices while waving his hands in his face. The gravity of the moment brought that silliness to a halt. Ignis took a nervous breath. To him, the apology, while not even close to the half of it, sounded sincere. He could admit though that he wasn’t an objective judge of Ravus’s intentions. Neither was Gladio, really. He just swung in the opposite direction.

He looked like he was headed that way. “Yeah, you’re right. It is too late and it doesn’t mean all that much,” Gladio said. Then he shifted course. “But maybe someday it will.”

He left after that. Nobody was in any hurry to follow him, save Aranea who tried to shoo them all off her ship. There was a loud clang of a boot hitting the wall near where Noctis was sleeping and a shout of ‘get up, you lazy bum’. 

It wasn’t the rudest awakening Noct had ever gotten. Buckets of water and alarm clocks with the volume jacked to eleven had been employed in the past. In short, Aranea had startled everybody else a lot more than Noctis. While Ignis collected his thoughts, Noctis yawned.

“Did I miss something?”

+++

A perk of traveling to the heart of an evil empire currently in the throes of a crisis of mass population disappearances and an influx of daemons was that they had the whole train to themselves. Aranea’s men, Biggs and Wedge, kept to the lead car and gave them periodic updates via the train’s intercom. Otherwise, it was just the five of them.

Ignis missed the first leg of the trip sleeping, something he had in common with Gladio and Ravus. For a change, Noctis stayed awake.

“He’s walking around the train. I think he checked on the Regalia. Raided the snack bar on the dining car,” Prompto recounted when Ignis woke and noticed their company was down a dark shape. “I think he’s nervous. I know I am.”

They all were. Ignis was doubly grateful for the allnighter he and Ravus had pulled because he never would have been able to sleep without being exhausted as he was. They needed to be as rested as possible because the gods only knew what was going to happen once they reached the capital. He guessed napping opportunities were going to be around zero. Strenuous MT and daemon fights, on the other hand, would be plentiful. 

Still drowsy, Ignis should have tried to go back to sleep but his mind was churning over what could be to come. It wasn’t all death by daemon claws and MT guns either. Gladio’s peace offering this morning seemed to mark a truce between him and Ravus, albeit one formed on the grounds of incomplete information. Ignis wasn’t going to disturb that for reasons that went beyond the revelation he’d had about Ravus last night. Knowing what, or who, he wanted didn’t lay out a clear path to him nor did it change what a mess their whole situation was. Wanting wasn’t the same as needing too. They needed to get to Gralea. They needed to get the Crystal. They needed to protect Noct. Wants would have to wait and if that conveniently gave him more time to figure it all out, well, it was nice that things were working out in his favor for a change.

What did they say about procrastination? It wasn’t necessarily laziness but fear of screwing up? Ignis could definitely get that.

The intercom chimed and either Biggs or Wedge (Ignis had trouble telling which one was which) announced they were approaching the Ghorovas Rift. The update on their location was helpful, but the volume at which it was made was not appreciated. It woke up both Gladio and Ravus. Noctis rejoined them a few minutes later wanting to know why the name Ghorovas sounded familiar and wondering if anybody else thought it had gotten real cold all of the sudden.

“It’s where the Niflheim fleet defeated Shiva,” Ravus explained. “A perpetual storm has raged since the day she died. It’s particularly harsh near her body.”

“Her body’s still there?” Prompto asked. “Freaky.” A moment later, he asked, “Will we be able to see it?”

“It’s...difficult to miss.”

Prompto wasn’t assured. He wanted to know which side of the train to look out of, how long it would take to reach it, how long he’d have to get pictures, etc. All those questions turned out to be unnecessary. He stopped mid-ask to yell, “Holy shit!”

Noctis let out a stream of embarrassed exclamations. “Oh, wow...that’s, um...wow.” Gladio wasn’t much more articulate.

“Do I want to know?” Ignis asked Ravus.

“When Shiva fell, her body did not land in the most...decorous...of positions.”

Ignis was familiar with the traditional depictions of the Glacian - a beautiful woman with pale blue skin and intricately braided hair. Some had her clothed in fine lace, others eschewed clothes for strategic frost patterns. All of them agreed that whatever she was wearing, there wasn’t much to it. Ignis had no trouble figuring out what was causing his friends so much consternation. 

“Kind of reminds of Gladio’s old gym locker,” Prompto said.

“Hey, I was a stupid teenager then and lots of guys had cheesecake pinned up in their locker.”

“Guys, come on,” Noct whined. “She’s a goddess. Have some respect.”

Gladio and Prompto must have listened. They didn’t say anything else. Ignis had another question for Ravus but his mouth wouldn’t move. All of this thoughts grew heavy. The rest of his body followed suit. He’s never felt this completely leaden and tired. Then he felt nothing at all.

+++

Because shooting magic from his hands, creating illusions that made him look like other people and vice versa, moving around like he was teleporting and having a daemon fueled army at his beck and call wasn’t fucked up enough, Ardyn had revealed a new horror show ability - he could knock the lot of them unconscious without warning. He’d flexed that talent to put all of them to sleep so he could have a private talk with Noctis.

And that wasn’t the weird part. None other than the Astral Shiva had shown up to interrupt that discussion by turning Ardyn into a popsicle so she could deliver a message of her own and form the covenant with Noct. Oh, and Shiva was and had been Gentiana the entire time.

Ravus didn’t take that news well. “That’s not possible,” he insisted. To be fair, he was saying this as Shiva’s body laid dead near the train so the disbelief wasn’t coming from nowhere. Ignis knew it had more to do with the frustration Ravus had expressed over the indolence of his sister’s Messengers. This newest discovery made it worse. Gentiana was the Glacian, able to freeze anything, but she’d let Tenebrae burn twice. She’d let the past two Oracles die. Titan had shown up to fight both the Niflheim fleet and Leviathan but not a single snowflake had fallen from the woman who’d claimed Lady Lunafreya as a dear companion.

Ravus’s already soured faith in the Astrals must have fallen that much further into bitterness. Ignis was sympathetic.

Noctis, though, swore Shiva had offered him comfort. More than the covenant, she’d shared memories of Lady Lunafreya, memories that Noct wanted to ask Ravus about.

“I’ve nothing to say of the Glacian,” Ravus huffed. He had a lot to mutter under his breath but none of that was anything Noctis wanted to hear.

Meanwhile, Ignis, Prompto and Gladio were trying to get their bearings after the unexpected nap. Prompto continued to be freaked out about the shards of ice all over the floor. They were what was left of the Ardyn ice statue after Noct had shattered it. “Oh, god, I think that one ice cube is his nose,” Prompto said. Ignis told him there didn’t need to be any additional descriptions for his benefit. 

The train’s movement resumed, which failed to put anyone at ease. Prompto talked about the task at hand as if they were in a video game. Ignis couldn’t tell if he was making it sound better or worse. “Okay, so like you always gotta fight mid-bosses anyway. Ardyn’s like his own mid-boss. Every time he shows up, he unlocks a new scary ass ability. When we get to the Crystal, he’ll like be in his final form.”

Ravus summed that up with his usual eloquence. “What?”

“Don’t answer that,” Ignis told Prompto. Explanations would only make Ravus more confused.

Prompto got in a final analogy. Accompanied by shrieks and the stench of Scourge, it was rather self-explanatory. “Oh, crap, here come the trash mobs.”

“Why am I not surprised that creep sent a bunch of his buddies?” Gladio yelled over the sound of daemons landing on top of the train. “Come on, guys. Get ready.”

One of them did. Ravus unsheathed his sword. Everybody else tried to pull their weapons from Noct’s armiger and ended up with empty hands. Ignis thought of his favorite daggers instead of the polearm he’d been aiming for but again, nothing appeared. It was not comforting to hear Noctis, Gladio and Prompto declaring they were having the same problem.

Everyone shouted at questions at Noctis, who really wanted answers himself. “I don’t know what’s going on! It’s like the power got shut off.”

“How?” Gladio asked. “Some kind of Nif technology?”

There was a pause as the expectations for answers shifted over to Ravus. He hadn’t a clue either. “I don’t see how a counter to the Lucis Caelum magic could be developed without any access to said magic to study it.”

Ignis agreed. Their recent visitor and current predicament weren’t a coincidence. “Ardyn. This must be his doing.”

“Ugh,” Prompto groaned. “I was right. I guess next he starts shooting laser beams from his eyes. Stupid godmodder.”

“None of you have any weapons that weren’t stored in the armiger?” Ravus asked.

It seemed like an oversight but it wasn’t as if having access to the armiger shut off without any kind of warning was something they could have seen coming. Short of the death of the king to whom it was tied, that shouldn’t happen.

And then there was the reason Gladio gave, albeit somewhat defensively. “Hey, you try lugging a greatsword and a shield everywhere, let alone a whole bunch of them.”

Ravus had greater concerns than responding to that. Daemons were now inside the train car and, as the only armed one among them, he busied himself fighting them.

The intercom chimed. In addition to the helpful update about their proximity to Gralea, there was the news that the train was never going to make it there. All the cars were under assault and there were even more daemons ahead. Biggs and Wedge insisted they’d be fine, but everybody else needed to abandon ship while they could.

“The Regalia,” Noct said. “We need to get to her. We’ll get into the city that way.”

They had to reach the car first. A mad dash was their best strategy. Maybe Gladio could beat a daemon to death with his bare hands but that would not be an advisable tactic for the rest of them. Ravus could provide cover but whether to put him in the lead to help cut a way through or at the back to ensure they weren’t swarmed from behind was debatable. 

Ravus had his own solution. “Take it,” he said, holding out Alba Leonis for Noctis. “I have my lighting and can cover our retreat.”

This was the second time Ravus had presented Noctis with a sword. This moment and this sword didn’t hold the solemnity of King Regis’s former weapon, but it held its own importance. 

“Um, thanks,” was how Noctis commemorated it. 

“I expect this one back.”

They had to reach the Regalia first. Noctis took off in the lead with Gladio close behind. Ignis was next, then Prompto who kept a guiding hand on his back the whole way. Ignis was deeply grateful that the way there was a straight line with the booths creating a well defined aisle. Walking wasn’t much of a problem for him anymore, but a dead sprint in the dark with daemons lurking was not a pleasant experience. He had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, quick as he could, and trust that Noct and Ravus would take care of any threats.

Switching between the cars was the worst. There was railing up, Ignis knew, but that security measure didn’t feel secure at all in the face of rushing wind and the noise created by the daemons. He pushed through his fear to keep going, trying to focus on Prompto’s instructions and insistence that he was ‘doing awesome’. Ignis chose to interpret the numerous flashes of lightning as proof that Ravus was still there rather than a sign of how many enemies they were fighting.

Reaching the final car with the Regalia inside was an enormous relief even though it was just the completion of one stage of their flight. Gladio worked on the mechanism that would drop the back door onto the tracks to make a ramp for the Regalia while the others piled into the car. It was the first time they’d been in it since leaving Cape Caem. The feel of the leather seats, the purr of the engine, the song that had been cut off midway when they’d parked coming back on - these were all comforts. 

Ignis listened to Noct whispering encouragement to the Regalia. Other than his currently sealed away sword, this car was the last vestige Noctis had of his father. He’d always held it dear. Car trips were private trips and thus had been some of the few times where they could be simply father and son instead of the king and his heir. How many drives had they taken around the city for that reason alone? They’d grown more infrequent over the years and more valued for that. After Ignis had gotten his driver’s license, Noct had wheedled a trip out of his father by insisting a good way to celebrate was by letting him drive the Regalia and since it was being taken out anyway, why not have Regis come along? That hadn’t been Ignis’s idea of a stress free first time out. His knuckles had been tight against the steering wheel, his posture ramrod straight as he’d pulled out the very expensive, very notable car full of very important people into the nighttime traffic of Insomnia. The first few blocks, he’d thought he’d give himself a stroke. The next few, he’d heard the laughter of his friend and his king and been able to relax. By the time he’d returned to the garage underneath the Citadel over an hour later, Ignis had felt at home in the driver’s seat.

He wouldn’t be driving this car or any other again. Ignis could deal with that. Harder to handle were the quiet pleas Noct was making. “Come on, old girl. You got this. We can make it.”

Gladio vaulted in the backseat and told Noctis to floor it. Backwards they flew out of the train car, hit the track with a thud that would have drawn a lecture from Cid, and then the Regalia was accelerating forward, going faster than Ignis had ever felt before.

Ignis had thought the backseat was spacious but then he’d never had to share it with two men the size of Ravus and Gladio. He was practically wedged in. Cramped as it was, Ignis was grateful for the extra bracing. The tracks weren’t a smooth road to begin with but Noct had to maneuver back and forth, presumably dodging attacks. Ignis couldn’t make out anything. Everything was too dark and too fast. Prompto’s screaming painted a clear enough picture to decide not to ask for clarification.

An automated message informed them the main gates were closing. “What are those lights up ahead?” Noctis asked in a yell.

Ravus’s answer wasn’t good. “That would be the aforementioned main gate. If it shuts, we’ll have to travel miles around the crater to get to the next entrance.”

Noct grunted, the engine revved louder and somehow, the Regalia picked up even more speed.

Prompto tried to make the best of it. “Good thing we played all those racing games at the arcade, huh?” He didn’t laugh at his own joke. The whole car was dead silent to help Noctis keep the laser focus he’d need to get them through this.

Prompto did let out a small whoop when they passed through the gate with time to spare. There was a reprieve as they drove through a tunnel. That ended the second they exited and Prompto began repeating ‘fuck’ over and over again.

“What is it?” Ignis asked. His vision was awash in dark shapes, around and above - a trick of lighting and their speed, he thought. He’d thought wrong.

“The whole city…” Ravus said in horrified awe. “Where could they have come from? I’ve never seen daemons like these.”

To his left, Ignis could feel Gladio tensing up. That was never a good sign. “How many?” Ignis asked him.

“Too many to count. They’re everywhere. Big bastards too, flying around with the Nif ships. This city is fucked.”

That was inspirational. There wasn’t anything they could do about it either except hopefully drive fast enough to outrun their enemies until they made it to Zegnautus Keep. Ravus said the tracks did lead directly there to facilitate getting supplies to the fortress. Unfortunately that meant the tracks were crowded with cargo trains, giving Noct more obstacles to avoid. 

It was like being on the rollercoaster from hell. The rapid speed, the sharp swerves back and forth, the jolts from taking unavoidable damage. Ignis couldn’t see any of it and every sensation of movement was heightened because of it. Gladio had shifted in his seat behind Noct. Ignis guessed he was getting into a position that would, if worse came to worst, allow him to throw himself over Noctis. Without his shields, he would make one of his own body. 

Ignis had protection as well. Much as he couldn’t make out anything, it was hard not to notice a metal arm around his shoulder and the real arm hovering over his chest, ready to grab hold of him in the event of an impact. 

“We’re almost there,” Ravus reassured him.

Almost was as far as the Regalia was going to go. Noctis screamed a warning that he had to take a hit so another, larger attack would miss. From the crunch of metal and the force with which the Regalia was slammed sideways, Ignis was glad he couldn’t see whatever Noct had deemed the greater of two evils. The lesser had wreaked enough havoc. The Regalia lurched to a stop and no amount of key turning or coaxing from Noctis could get her going again.

Ignis demanded an inventory of their injuries as they got out of the car. Minor cuts and sore spots that would turn into nasty bruises were all there was to report. The Regalia had protected them well. That made the emotional toll that much worse. 

Zegnautus wasn’t far. It loomed as a massive void in Ignis’s vision. Daemons were all around. Yet they lingered, nobody wanting to move on without marking their loss in some way.

Ravus excused himself by claiming a desire to scout ahead. Prompto handed him back his sword. Noct had given it to Prompto to hold onto when they’d gotten into the Regalia. Ravus thanked him and left the four of them alone in their thoughts.

Noct’s words were short and to the point. They hadn’t the time for more. Ignis knew how devastating this was and he took pride in how quickly Noct resolved to get moving again. He thought he detected a nod from Gladio in approval as well.

Noctis went in the direction Ravus had gone with Prompto on his heels. A massive train wreck had blocked the path straight in front of them. They might be able to navigate the wreckage with time but if Ravus knew a better route, a detour was in order. 

Ignis heard Ravus caution Noctis and Prompto about shipping containers that were in a precarious position. The creaking coming from them suggested it would be best to hurry. He and Gladio tried, but it was actually lucky they were slow. A few steps more and they would have been under them when they fell onto the railway.

There was shouting back and forth as they made sure everybody was okay. Then they had to decide what to do. The collapse had created a jangled mass as big as the one in the way of the main gate. Prompto was complaining about something leaking and smelling bad too.

“There must have been a fuel container among what fell,” Ravus said. “It’s best not to tarry.”

Gladio hated agreeing, but he had to. A stray artillery blast landing while they were climbing over train debris would be an abrupt and fiery end to their venture. The best thing was for the two groups to go their separate ways into the Keep. 

Ravus gave detailed descriptions of where to go and what landmarks Gladio should look for. It seemed like he was sending them on a roundabout path but he explained this course was a back way that would be easier going for Ignis. Gladio agreed with that too. It was close to the coddling that had annoyed Ignis previously, but he chose to be grateful for Ravus and Gladio looking after him. 

“They’ll be okay,” Gladio said, more for himself than Ignis. “We’re the unarmed ones. We should get going.”

Ignis prodded the ground around him with his cane. He hit rubble more than he didn’t. This was not going to be a leisurely stroll. Gladio could forage for a weapon and he could...stand out of the way because he was on really unfamiliar, poorly lit ground and that was going to be the most he could contribute.

Yet he couldn’t help but be more worried for the trio that had departed. For Noct’s sake, obviously. Prompto too. And Ravus, for all the tangle of emotions the man had caused in him, Ignis felt a flush of sweat under his gloves and a knot in his throat at the thought of never getting a chance to sort that tangle out. In that disquiet, his desire to procrastinate faded.

“Yes,” he said back to Gladio. “We have to keep moving forward.”


	9. Ex's and Oh Craps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Using the directions Ravus gave them, Ignis and Gladio find they're taking the easy route through Zegnautus and use the lull to discuss a few things.

When they’d been teenagers, Gladio had tried to get Ignis into weightlifting. Practical applications for it aside, Ignis had never cared for the activity. The fleet and precise movements of blending strike into strike when using his daggers made Ignis more of a cardio guy anyway. Noctis and Prompto had tried it, to mixed and often unintentionally hilarious results. The failure of his friends to embrace the hobby had spurred Gladio into a hardcore dedication to it. He’d given frequent updates on the milestones he’d achieved.

Ignis had known the numbers were large and impressive. He hadn’t known how damn handy they’d come in years later when they were forging through all kinds of wreckage while trying to get to Zegnautus Keep. Since he couldn’t make out one obstacle from the next, let alone figure out where good handholds were, the fastest way to get over several of the blockages was for Gladio to climb on top, then pretty much deadlift Ignis up to his position. They got clear of the train depot this way, with only a few grunts from Gladio to show for the effort it must have taken.

He had to be exhausted, Ignis thought. They’d avoided the daemons that had overtaken the city so far. They shouldn’t count on that luck lasting. They needed to find a place to shelter and give Gladio a chance to rest. Ever the Shield, Gladio insisted it wasn’t necessary so Ignis fell back on claiming he needed the breather to try to get orientated. He couldn’t do a thing for the others so Gladio would have to bear the brunt of his concern.

“I know you’re faking it,” Gladio said, “but it’ll take more time to get you to drop it than it would to play along. Commander Grump Ass said there was a bus station beyond this fencing. Should find benches there or something to sit on.”

“That’s former High Commander Grump Ass to you,” Ignis corrected him.

“Oh, sorry. Me and my social faux pas.”

The fence was easy to cross. A large hole had been torn in a nearby section. Another minute’s walk and they found the bus stop as described along with the source of the fence’s damage. The daemon smell wasn’t strong. They should be able to take care of these.

“A bunch of little bastards,” Gladio confirmed. “This will feel good.” There was a screech of metal as he pulled what Ignis guessed was a street sign out of a pile of rubble. It was followed by the squelching noise of daemon flesh meeting the sign, repeatedly and with force. If it hadn’t been a stop sign before, it was now.

“Iggy!” Gladio called out. “Three o’clock. Hard.”

Ignis lashed out with his cane in the described direction. The daemon it hit sounded indignant that its sneak attack had failed. Ignis gave it extra smacks to shut it up.

“Still got it,” Gladio laughed. “Now we can take five.”

Along with benches, there were vending machines near the stop. Gladio jostled one around until it coughed up a couple of cans. “Here, get your fix,” he said. “Don’t know how you drink this shit but I figure I could use the caffeine too.”

Ignis didn’t need to ask what was in the can. He took the Ebony and offered a toast. “To canned goods and good friends.”

Gladio clinked his can against Ignis’s. “To beating the crap out of daemons and their asshole chancellor friend.”

He added a ‘blech’ to the sentiment though that was probably due to the taste. None of his friends had ever understood Ignis’s love of this drink. “It’s not that bad,” Ignis insisted. “You got me the mocha flavor, try that.”

“And trade my Macadamia Madness? That’s nuts. It says it’s limited edition.”

“Limited to many millions of cans. Half of Eos drinks this so you can lay off the dramatics.”

“Half of Eos also eats at the Crow’s Nest and I know how you feel about that,” Gladio countered. “You do have...peculiar...tastes.”

Ignis sighed. That had not been graceful. “Why do I suspect that was an attempt at a segue?”

“Cuz it kinda was.”

Ignis’s uncomfortable conversation ahead senses were tingling. After slogging through the most difficult talk of his life with Ravus to a promising result, this though, should be a cakewalk. It was Gladio, after all. “Go on. You’ve already impugned my taste in mass produced novelty drinks. What else would you like to question?”

“Let’s walk and talk. That keep ain’t infiltrating itself.”

The next landmark Ravus had told them to look for was a row of huge transformers that fed Zegnautus power. Beyond those, there was a maintenance staff entrance. That was their shot to get inside. 

They walked but didn’t talk. Ignis guessed the issue Gladio had tried to raise wasn’t that comfortable for him either. Also, they were going into the fortress that comprised the heart of their enemy. That made things a tad tense for shooting the breeze. 

The area past the transformers was eerily empty. Security at the staff entrance was nonexistent. “All I see are clothes,” Gladio said. “They look like uniforms and there’s a bunch of keycards with them.”

“I doubt the guards suddenly discovered a mutual interest in exhibitionism.”

It would have been less unsettling to enter the building with a fight. Instead, Gladio waved different keycards at a sensor until the door opened for them with a cheerful beep. Inside was equally empty. Gladio found a door labeled ‘Security’ and again, all he had to do to gain access was find the right card in his stash.

“Something about spiders saying something to the flies,” Gladio muttered. Ignis thought it was an apt metaphor. He couldn’t take this as a break after experiencing the hell raging outside. The Keep’s desolation had to be a symptom of what had gone wrong in Gralea, not an exception to it.

Gladio agreed. He found a sword he could use along with a pair of daggers he gave to Ignis. “I’ll take care of everything,” he promised, “but just in case.”

The daggers weren’t of the quality Ignis was used to but there was reassurance in having them at hand. Every bit of normal helped. Corridor after corridor was empty. They began checking rooms not only to avoid any nasty MT surprises but to see if they could find anyone or anything to tell them what the hell was going on. All they got were more of those strange piles of discarded clothes. Everything was in working order. Paperwork, supplies and personal effects littered desks as they would in a regular office. The ripeness of a half-eaten sandwich left out on a security checkpoint podium was a clue that whatever had happened had taken place several days ago. That didn’t help with the ‘we’ve walked into a horror movie’ unease. 

“Isn’t this the part where the jump scares start happening?” Gladio asked.

“I imagine that’s what awaits us further in. All those financial reports you found indicate this was a low-level bean counter office. When we get to the military areas, I honestly can’t say if I would prefer more of this bizarre nothingness or a full on onslaught.”

“I actually think I’m leaning towards the onslaught.”

They’d have to get there first. None of their keycards would get them off this floor. The sensors by the elevators and stairwell doors buzzed angrily at each one. The security podium had a release for them but it required a lengthy code that would have taken them ages to figure out. 

“Looks like we’re doing this the old fashioned way,” Gladio said. He picked a stairwell door and started kicking. It gave in after the fourth kick and a shrill alarm rang out immediately. No one responded to it. The stairs it was then.

“How many flights you reckon this place has?” Gladio asked.

“Many.” Ignis wasn’t trying to be flippant. He’d been able to tell Zegnautus Keep was huge but trying to translate the massive black blot he’d seen into traversable sections was beyond him. 

Gladio figured the same. “Too many. Guess it’s quad and glute day.”

The first set of stairs went slowly but as Ignis got used to the steps he had to take, he was able to go faster. The doors were locked from both sides but at least were labeled with the floor number and function so Gladio didn’t have to bust down each one to get an idea where they were. Since the stairwell was clear of threats, they decided to keep using it until they found a floor description that sounded promising.

“Didn’t think invading the Nif’s home base would be so boring,” Gladio said after fifteen floors. “I think we may have been given directions to the nice and easy route.” 

That would be a good example of Ravus’s protective streak coming out. Ignis appreciated it even though it kicked up worries about the route he, Noctis and Prompto were on. Zegnautus wouldn’t have that many secretarial pools to wade through.

There was another concern, marked by the burning of Ignis’s calves. “It would be nicer if it were underground and we were descending instead of ascending.” He was in exceptional shape physically but a stair climber had never been part of his work out. It wouldn’t be after this hell climb either.

“Want a piggyback ride?”

“Want a cane across your backside?”

“Kinky. Speaking of which - “

“You want me to help you work on your segues?”

“I don’t know. I kinda like them obvious. Gets to the point quicker.”

“Which I take isn’t about my taste in coffee.”

For a man eager to get to the point, Gladio danced around it a little longer. “Ever since Altissia, you know, you’ve been spending a lot of time around a certain person and some people - mainly Prompto - are thinking maybe there’s something to that.”

They already had had discussions over something Ignis had only recently admitted to himself. It was speculation, gossip really, but he didn’t know whether to be alarmed or heartened that his friends had picked up on it. Apparently they knew him better than he knew himself. They didn’t have the complete picture, but then Ignis was still working on it too. His feelings aside, he didn’t know where Ravus was at. Obviously Ravus considered him a friend but all of his behavior could fit under that friendship label and Ignis wasn’t ready to push a man still finding his footing. 

He could shove Gladio around all day long though. “I’ve been friendly. What makes you think there’s anything more than that?”

“Maybe I should have said you were spending an absolute shitload of time because it’s more accurate. And you do like ‘em prissy.”

“What? No,” Ignis chafed. “I like a degree of refinement.”

Gladio muttered the word ‘prissy’ in between a series of fake coughs. “Hey, we’ve all got our things. Yours tends to be really annoying to other people. No big deal.”

“I don’t accept the term ‘prissy’.”

“Come on, you remember that douchebag who kept getting all snitty when I was trying to pick out an art style for my tattoo? Kept going on about the professional prospects of people with big tattoos, like I was going to be an investment banker instead of Noct’s Shield.”

Oh, him. Gladio had a point. His name was Trevan and he’d been Ignis’s first sort of serious boyfriend. His ‘you like Noctis more than me’ farewell speech had included quotes from a prominent psychologist and a fourth century ME poem. There weren’t many arguments to be found there.

“In my defense,” Ignis said. “I was seventeen, he was very attractive and you were contemplating several rather hideous designs before you settled on getting the same one as your father.”

“I still think that one with the different colors and jagged lines would have looked cool.”

“Garish. That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“I dunno...that word sounds kind of… _prissy_. Besides, we were talking about your tastes.”

He could only dodge the question for so long. They’d been friends long enough for Gladio to have learned all his tactics. Ignis did want to know what had brought this on. 

“There’s that shitload of time thing,” Gladio told him. “Including a whole night in a partially burning building. Noct said when he told you how weird he’d been acting, you took off like...well, a house afire.”

So Ignis wasn’t quite the smooth operator he’d thought he’d been. Denying it wouldn’t accomplish anything and with all the truths he was already withholding from Gladio, lying outright to his best friend would be lower than low. He didn’t want to lie either. He’d kept his private life private as he had for a number of reasons that he knew were excuses. Of course judgment would be there, along with jokes and gentle ribbing, not because his friends wanted to give him a hard time, but because they cared. And, thinking back on the men that had followed Trevan, maybe that prissy thing had merit. Objectively speaking, Ravus cleared that bar with several feet to spare. There was more to him than that, far more than anyone besides Ignis had ever seen. He didn’t need to tell Gladio all of that but talking it through could help. It could help Gladio understand where he was coming from. It could help him sort out where he was going to go from here.

“Okay, I admit that you, or excuse me, mainly Prompto, are right,” Ignis said.

“Seriously? As in you’re not kidding me and this is an actual legit thing and not a stupid, stupid, really stupid crush?” 

“Seriously on both counts.”

“And in your defense, you’re twenty-two, he’s decent looking and your options on this road trip from hell are severely limited?”

“First, you are correct on my age. Second, while the importance of looks has decreased dramatically for me of late, he rates much, much higher than decent. And third, I wasn’t aware there was a requirement for me to find someone so my interest isn’t the result of a compulsory choice.”

“Yeah, I didn’t need an essay but that kind of explains things all on its own. And also, really?”

“Which part? You know my birthday. I think you know nobody’s holding a gun to my head. And as for the looks, the eyes, the ridiculous cheekbones, and the white hair are all incredibly striking. Not that I’m shallow like that.”

“Course not. You’re in it for his sunny personality.”

That was going to be a longer, trickier explanation. Ravus’s complexity was what drew Ignis to him. Unraveling it wasn’t just a difficult task, trying to do it in a few bullet points felt like doing him a disservice. Ignis had to say something. Gladio had only known the worst of Ravus. Let him know something of the best of him, and he might drop the disbelief that permeated every question about him.

_This is going to turn into another soliloquy, isn’t it_? Gladio was going to receive that with a snarky comment like Ravus had, which, while technically a point in Ignis’s favor, wasn’t going to be received as such. Starting with a concession seemed like a better idea.

“He won’t be winning any Miss Congeniality awards but he’s affable enough once you get beyond the exterior. Rather dry sense of humor too, though I can’t get him to budge on the puns. And I won’t say the ‘grumpiness’ is a complete facade. He has his reasons for both acting and being that way.”

“Like working for an evil empire for over a decade?” 

“That would be a large part of it, yes.” Ignis could spare the details but a general gist and an affirmation that Ravus had told the truth about his motives would be nice. “We went over at some length why he felt he had to join Niflheim. I believe him when he says it was solely for Lady Lunafreya’s sake. The fall and occupation of Tenebrae weren’t easy on either of them.”

Ignis expected push back on that. For a change, Gladio was sympathetic to a degree. “Can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em. I get that. But you don’t have to _join_ them. Fake the fealty. Maybe not go all in on being the best Imperial stooge you can be.”

“If you’re trying to go unnoticed, that’s a viable strategy. If you’re trying to acquire a position of power so you can protect someone else, not as much.”

“You two actually talked through all this? This isn’t you coming up with explanations for him?”

“He’s been very honest with me about the things he’s done for Niflheim.” _Too honest_ , Ignis thought as he recalled Insomnia. “He might have defended them as necessary evils, but he’s not deluding himself about them being evil. He’s even questioning the necessary part.”

That got a ‘huh’ from Gladio and nothing more for another flight of stairs. Clearly he had to process this new information. Hell, Ignis was still surprised by how much Ravus had opened up to him. Gladio had gone into this thinking he would tease Ignis about a crush and instead had discovered something deeper.

“The sign says intake,” Gladio announced when they hit the next landing. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m guessing it means they track or receive the goods coming into Zegnautus on this floor. Doesn’t sound that promising.”

“What are the odds there’s a ‘Nif Bastard Secret Lair’ sign somewhere?”

“Isn’t that the entire keep? Specifically though, I think we’re looking for personnel signs with increasingly harsh warnings about being authorized to enter. By then though, I imagine the security requires more than a swift kick to override.”

“I can put some shoulder into it. Want to go up a couple more floors or do we say to hell with it and break in?”

“There might more creepy piles of clothing to rifle through for keycards. I know my legs would appreciate the respite.”

“Wuss,” Gladio said but when he kicked against the door, it didn’t sound as forceful as it had when they first entered the stairwell. Even his chiseled by the gods physique was getting tired of this upward trek.

Inside, Gladio described a harshly lit environ of row after row of cubicles. It hardly seemed the makings of an evil empire but conquering the world must generate a lot of paperwork. Defending one city certainly did. Many, many floors of the Citadel had office setups like this though Ignis would like to think the lighting wasn’t as bad. No propaganda posters were hanging on the wall there either, unlike the plethora here that Gladio was currently mocking.

“Is ‘you’re a vital cog in our glorious machine’ really that inspirational?” he asked. 

“Would you prefer that or ‘one of our automatons will kill you if you get out of line’?”

“Truth in advertising at least.” Gladio read off a few more slogans but they managed to be as depressing as the one Ignis had come up with. A better poster must have caught his eye because he walked quickly towards it, his voice giddy as he told Ignis, “I wish you could see this so much. I definitely have to take it down and show it to Noct and Prompto.”

Ignis couldn’t imagine what would be so great about a piece of Nif propaganda that Gladio would want to share it. “Unless it has cats or chocobos on it, I doubt they’d be interested,” he said.

“Nah, this poster is more your speed.”

Some kind of cooking thing, maybe? A couple slogans popped to mind. _You are the key ingredients in our evil souffle!_. Or _Mindless soldiers plus mindless office drones are a recipe for Imperial success!_. He really didn’t think the Nif PR department rolled that way. Ignis was stumped. “Taunting a blind man, Gladio, I thought you were better than that.”

__“I’d describe it to you, but knowing you can never see it, that might be the worse taunt of all.”_ _

__He was having fun with this. Deep in enemy territory, separated from their friends, lost within the sprawling confines of a dangerous fortress and on a do or die quest to retrieve the Crystal and save the world and he was having fun with a poster. Ignis’s group mom instincts flared up. They shouldn’t be dawdling this much. “I doubt I’d find it that appealing.”_ _

__“I dunno, a few minutes ago, you were going on about how _incredibly striking_ you would find it.”_ _

__Oh, Six, it was one of the posters of Ravus Aranea had told him about. Their situation hadn’t changed in the slightest, but he could be a fun group mom. It should only take a moment or two to get this priority sorted anyway. They had to look through this floor to find a better way up and his legs still ached. Taking this time to talk while they searched wouldn’t hurt a thing._ _

__“Is there any point in pretending I don’t want you to describe it?” Ignis asked._ _

__“Comedic value?”_ _

__“For the sake of time, let’s pretend you’re through mocking me and be out with it.”_ _

__“Okay, you remember back on the train how we were talking about how Shiva’s body was positioned…?”_ _

__That was a load of crap but the mental picture came nonetheless. Ignis tried thinking boring cube farm office thoughts lest Gladio know he’d gotten him. There was a search to do, keycards and such to find. They best get to it. “Hah, hah. Very funny. Why don’t you make up your weird fantasies while being productive? The stairwell can’t be the only entrance to this place.”_ _

__“Not my fantasies,” Gladio mumbled over the sound of heavy paper being rolled up. A rubber band snap confirmed he actually was keeping the damned thing or making a show of it to further pick at Ignis._ _

__He did get to work, though it wasn’t productive. Most of what he discovered were lanyards that gave a pass to this floor and nowhere else. They opened the elevator he found at the end of the office but it only allowed him to select lower levels. Gladio walked out of the cab frustrated. It seemed they were back to taking the stairs._ _

__“I wish Prompto was with us,” Gladio said. “He’s always good with machines. He could probably figure a way to get this thing moving where we want it to go.”_ _

__“It’s good then that he’s with Noctis. Better they have an easier path to the Crystal than us.”_ _

__“Better still that we were all together. Hope they were able to find some weapons. At least your boyfriend’s armed.”_ _

__“And he has his sword,” Ignis answered. “Though you can say his name and if you’re going to use an epithet, I would prefer High Commander Grump Ass.”_ _

__“Oh, was I getting ahead of you? I mean it sounds like you guys got into it pretty deep and you did spend the whole night together in Tenebrae.”_ _

__“Talking. We spent it talking. What did you think we were doing?”_ _

__“I don’t know, something involving the pose on this poster?”_ _

__“You’re terrible,” Ignis laughed. “But seriously, I have an interest but I haven’t decided how or if I wish to pursue it. I’m still sorting out some of the things he told me. And, above all, I need to focus on helping Noct.”_ _

__It seemed simple laid out like that. That was the nature of his rapport with Gladio. They could cut through all the shit they were dealing with straightforwardly. It made Ignis reconsider his stance on hiding the prophecy from him while wanting to safeguard him from it even more all at the same time._ _

__“Business before pleasure, huh?” Gladio said. “Not going to argue with that. I will continue to side-eye your judgement. He hasn’t been the disaster I was afraid he’d be and, I gotta admit, I like him better than some of the other fancy-pants losers you’ve picked up, but I reserve the right to make fun of him and to punch his face in if this goes bad.”_ _

__“Okay, that’s...uh, thank you?” He was being protective and giving his approval. That it came with qualifiers and insults to Ignis’s romantic choices was kind of bothersome. It kicked in his defensive instincts anyway. His love life hadn’t been that disastrous. “So you either like Ravus more than you thought you would or you hated everybody else more than I thought you did.”_ _

__“Let’s just say after the first few men of a prissiful nature -”_ _

__“That’s not a word.”_ _

__“-There was a theory put forth that you kept so quiet about them because you knew your tastes were shit and were too embarrassed to show them off.”_ _

__“Let me guess, you’re going to claim mainly Prompto came up with that as well.” It would be a worthless claim. Prompto didn’t have a judgmental bone in his body. Or at least a bone that would be mouthy about it. Noct either. This was all Gladio, doing his sworn duty of looking out for his friends while enjoying the perk of being able to poke a little fun at them. There was a virtually invisible speck of truth in there, because, really, who didn’t get nervous introducing new romantic partners to their friends. “They weren’t that bad!” Ignis concluded meekly._ _

__“Not all of ‘em, yeah, but you’ve got to give me that violinist who made sure everybody knew he didn’t own a TV.”_ _

__Third boyfriend, he’d been twenty-five to Ignis’s twenty, amazingly talented musically and very aware of that. The TV thing had been _prissy_ as hell but he and Gladio both had gotten amusement from how thoroughly it had confused Noctis and Prompto. “Fine, one more point for you. For the record, I have witnessed Ravus watching television.”_ _

__“Consider all misgivings erased. But hey, for my record, I’m going to bag on any bums Iris might bring home too. I mean, I don’t see her hitting your numbers but if one gets under her radar...that’s how Amicitias are. We guard our king. We guard our family.”_ _

__Ignis could take being touched by being included as Gladio’s family and leave it at that. Or he could fight back a bit, because that was another thing Amicitias and Scientias did. “That means I’m free to criticize your choices?”_ _

__“You got nothin’”_ _

__Ignis called that bluff, starting with a girlfriend who’d used him as a get close to Noctis device and ending with the one who’d used their breakup as an excuse to loot his closet._ _

__“That one still confuses the hell out of me,” Gladio said. “She was a foot and a half shorter than me so unless she wanted a tank top for a dress or something, I got no clue. Could’ve pawned everything, I suppose. But the only thing worth any money was a pair of behemoth hide boots.”_ _

__“Speaking of questionable choices…”_ _

__“They were ugly but they were badass,” Gladio argued. He gave in on Ignis’s original point. “Okay, I’ve haven’t picked all winners either. I’m hoping you’re breaking your total loser streak but I’m not exactly placing a bet on it.”_ _

__Under the circumstances, that was as good as Ignis could hope for. Perhaps it hadn’t been the most apropos talk to have during their infiltration but it had kept their minds off of worrying how the others were doing. Knowing that Gladio was basically ‘meh but not too worried’ about Ravus was better than fearing he’d be openly hostile. There was that teensy little secret lurking in the background that could change that dramatically, but Ignis was trying to stay positive._ _

__“Time to ditch the cube farm for the stairs?” Gladio asked. Loathe as they both were to hit the stairs again, their choices were limited._ _

__“To the endless climb,” Ignis answered with the enthusiasm of a man headed to the dentist for a root canal. At least the dental work was usually over within an hour. The gods only knew how long they’d be on those damn steps._ _

__“Perhaps I could offer you an alternative route?” came a voice over the intercom. It sounded downright bubbly, which considering it was Ardyn’s voice, was horrifyingly ominous._ _

__“Nah, we’re good. Go back to hell, asshole,” Gladio said._ _

__Ardyn tutted his disapproval. “I offer a helping hand only to receive turned backs. I thought we were better friends than that.”_ _

__“We ain’t shit to you, buddy,” Gladio hissed._ _

__“Your grammar is as dreadful as your manners. You realize you just affirmed our friendship?”_ _

__Ignis had barely heard Gladio and he was standing next to him. It wasn’t shocking that the Nifs would have their offices rigged to spy on employees. Ardyn being a pedant over the double negative to irritate them wasn’t a surprise either. Putting the two together and realizing that Ardyn had likely been listening to them for a while and had commentary ready to go on what they’d been discussing made Ignis feel suddenly nauseous._ _

__“Poor Noct seems to attract the most uncouth company,” Ardyn chirped. “Specs, was it? Can I expect more propriety from you?”_ _

__No. “Go fuck yourself,” was Ignis’s response._ _

__“Oh my, I can’t imagine you wooing Commander Fleuret using such boorish language. The soul of a tortured, and quite pretentious poet, that one. Though I must admit, your surliness is on point.”_ _

__Once Noct got his armiger working, Ignis was going to grab every sharp object out it and jab them into Ardyn. Several times each. Then he’d get the blunt objects and start smashing._ _

__“Just shut him out,” Gladio advised. It was the logical thing to do. Getting provoked by his babble was what he wanted._ _

__“But I have an enticing offer for you. I know how awfully worried you must be for your dear friends. The freight elevator you tried earlier can take you directly to them with the proper authorization. A simple ‘please’ and you can consider your wish granted.”_ _

__Gladio snorted. “Sure and once we’re on it, you let the thing loose and it drops us to our deaths.”_ _

__“You insult me to think me so pedestrian. I could have sent troopers to your location any time I chose but I let you have your little confab instead. The benefit of the doubt has been earned, has it not?”_ _

__“Because you haven’t killed us yet and because death by elevator is too cliche,” Ignis said, “we should trust you?”_ _

__“Are you translating for your slower friend or do you enjoy rewording what’s been said to you?” Ardyn let out a belaboured sigh. “Here, I’ll turn on the blinky lights and beeps for the elevator. Can you two figure it out from there?”_ _

__True to his word, the elevator began pinging and small, bright dots began flashing. Ardyn coaxed them to follow the pretty lights and chimes, his patronization stopping a hair short of offering them a treat if they obeyed._ _

__“It’s almost worth getting on the thing to shut him up,” Gladio said._ _

__“He’s setting us up.”_ _

__“Yeah, I figured. But spring the obvious trap or let him to come up with another, all while having to listen to him talk?”_ _

__Put that way, the choice was clear. They’d didn’t like it but they walked towards the elevator._ _

__“Ah, see! Reason can prevail! But gentlemen, I’m afraid you forgot the magic word.”_ _

__Ignis mustered his best advisor voice and uttered the most saccharine ‘please’ of his life._ _

__Ardyn’s mockery meant nothing to him. Reuniting with Noctis, Ravus and Prompto was worth dealing with whatever snide comments Ardyn sent their way._ _

__Though Ignis really could have gone his entire life without ever hearing Ardyn mention there was a bouquet of flowers on the reception desk by the elevator if he wanted to have something for his beau when they met again._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lighthearted chapter before the heavy stuff hits. 
> 
> Side note - while Google docs love to underline perfectly cromulent words and pretend they don't exist, it had zero problems with 'prissiful' making me question my IRL dictionary and sanity.


	13. The King (of Light) and I (and Prompto) - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had to split this one in half because it was getting ridiculous. First up, Prompto and a lie.

For how little love Ravus had held for Gralea, walking through what amounted to the corpse of the city was strangely disconcerting.

The train wreckage had forced them over towards the residential districts near Zegnautus. The apartment buildings there had been built for function far over form. Essentially massive blocks of concrete and steel, they were identical save for the numbering over their entrance doors. Thirty stories each, a good ten units per floor, the lot of them sprawled across several square miles, they must have housed thousands upon thousands of people. Now they stood desolate and silent.

Lights remained on in many. At the start of their journey, they’d peered into the windows of several of the first floor units thinking they might come across a survivor who could tell them what had happened. They’d found no one. Instead, they’d discovered eerie tableaus of tables set for a dinner that would never be eaten, televisions with no viewers broadcasting a warning for the citizens to stay indoors, and clothing discarded in piles as if they’d dropped straight from their vanished owners’ bodies to the ground.

After three blocks they stopped looking anywhere except towards their goal of the Keep. 

It wasn’t often Ravus would be considered the livelier member of a group, yet he’d wrested that position from Noctis and Prompto. He understood the grief Noctis must have felt at losing a symbol of his home along with the frustration of his sealed armiger. Prompto’s somberness was worrisome. The younger man’s cheerfulness bordered on relentless. Even when terrified, he was animated about it. He could be sharing in his friend’s sadness though trying to alleviate it seemed like a more Prompto thing to do.

As it turned out, he’d been doing the math on the buildings too. “So many people,” he said. “Poof, gone. Like, not even how, but why? I get blowing up your enemy’s turf but this is supposed to be the Nif hometown.”

“Ardyn never considered Gralea a home nor any of her people countrymen,” Ravus said. That had been a means of ingratiation Ardyn had used on him - there were both outsiders, serving an empire that tolerated them for their usefulness but didn’t welcome them. Ravus hadn’t bought into that proffered camaraderie for a second. Whatever motives Ardyn had, the word ‘ulterior’ could be added to all of them with assurance. Ravus should have examined that, been warier of it but with own motives murky and self-serving, he’d played along with the chancellor instead. A path of least resistance, it had been.

And this was where it had led.

In truth, the outsider appellation had only been conferred upon Ravus by the Niflheim elite and only after he’d gained enough status that a few of them had to start calling him ‘sir’. The conquered had been supposed to stay subservient after all. The regular citizens of the Empire, not having much status themselves, apparently hadn’t minded seeing someone rise from the bottom of the ranks to the top. The brass wouldn’t have featured him so prominently in the propaganda otherwise.

He remembered one secretary who had liked to attach a note with the latest ratings written on it to the scripts for the radio addresses. She’d gone heavy on the exclamation points and smiley faces when the ratings had been up. Baked goods had marked milestones such as the hundredth broadcast and multiples thereof. Such anniversaries had disgusted him as much as the notion of celebrating them. He wondered though what had become of that secretary. Would there be nothing but an empty dress lying by her desk? He struggled to recall her name - Elaine? Elise? - or anyone else he’d worked with. He’d never cared a wit for any of them before. Yet there was an undoubtable wrongness in how it had all ended.

He’d wanted the Empire to fall but not like this. He’d hated men like Aldercapt, Glauca, and Ulldor but the people… He’d been indifferent to them at best, disdainful at worst. He’d thought Ardyn had been of the same mind but there was a ruined city that spoke of much greater depths of callousness and contempt.

How long does one have to walk those dark paths to reach a place of that kind of hatred? How close had he gotten to there before changing course?

Wherever he was headed, Ravus could take solace that it was no longer there. Nor would he be alone.

He’d sent Ignis and Amicitia to the entrance of the administrative section of the Keep. It wouldn’t be completely free of danger but the number of troopers should be low. In the event of an emergency, the workers in those departments would be the first to stay home. Daemons lurked, surely, but Ignis was clever and Amicitia was strong. They’d be able to take care of themselves.

Best to keep his worry for himself and his companions. He couldn’t do anything for Ignis from here other than make sure his friends were safe. They were close to Zegnautus and the area they would be entering through housed the military division. Among a large supply of troopers would be the daemons used in battle operations. It was unlikely they’d be locked neatly in their cages anymore.

They were approaching the first of many security checkpoints. Ravus unsheathed his sword and thought about asking Noctis if he wanted to use it again but getting closer, he realized that would not be necessary. The checkpoint was unoccupied. Prompto shot him a questioning look.

“Normally there’s a minimum of four guards on duty,” Ravus said. They’d be armed and instructed to deter intruders with force if necessary. There were few situations that weren’t classified as necessary. The upside to that was that after they passed through unchallenged, there were weapons available for Prompto and Noctis to take. Prompto found a handgun and a rifle that he pronounced ‘sweet’. Noctis was choosier. He passed over several swords and a pike and settled on being empty-handed.

“I thought you had trained with a wide variety of weaponry?” Ravus asked him.

“Yeah, a little bit of everything,” he confirmed. “But none of these feel right.”

Having been issued to standard security, the weapons’ quality was like to be satisfactory but nothing exceptional. To a trained arm, that made a difference. The gods knew if Alba Leonis wasn’t so finely balanced, Ravus would have tossed it into the closest forge to be rid of it and the reminder its origin provided. 

Prompto’s guns either didn’t require that much thought, or he was the type who didn’t like to take anything free, weapons included, for granted. “Aren’t you just gonna stab stuff with it? Don’t think a dead daemon cares about craftsmanship.”

“The craftsmanship can be the difference between it being a dead daemon and an alive one,” Ravus pointed out. Noctis made a ‘neh’ sound at Prompto.

There was another explanation; he’d had bad experiences with his friend’s finicky tastes. “Says the guy who’s never had to spend hours listening to his friends trying to pick out one frickin’ sword. Iggy’s the worst. Gladio and Noct basically pick one up and give a good grunt or a bad grunt. Iggy gives, like, a whole lecture on the thing. _The poor heft of this dagger would negatively affect the trajectory when used as a projectile_.”

Noctis chuckled while Ravus struggled to find the humor. “Those are valid concerns for a person wielding weapons that rely on precise movements. And your impersonation of Ignis was terrible.”

“You would know,” Prompto mumbled. Noctis made that ‘neh’ noise again, higher pitched and harsher. It was accompanied by a hand gesture he stopped doing the second he noticed Ravus noticing him.

Ravus didn’t care to decode it. “We should get moving again. The longer we linger, the likelier we are to garner attention.”

Past the checkpoint was an open lot. Demonstrations and training sessions for the few human troops left in the Empire used to take place here. Magitek troopers never held those kind of displays. They didn’t need to. They did what they were programmed to do, exactly as they were programmed to do. Training was useless. That might explain why the lot was as empty as everywhere else they’d been. A few small daemons skittered along the edges near a barrier fence but it was a clear shot to the doors that would get them into the lower floor of the Keep. 

Entry there and at all other locations in Zegnautus was gated by the use of keycards. The one Ravus had been issued as High Commander had granted him access to all areas save for Aldercapt’s private quarters. His first day free of Niflheim, he’d wanted to tear the thing to pieces and fling them to the winds in the way he hadn’t been able to discard his sword. Ignis had stopped him. He’d thought it might come in useful. Ravus had doubted that. There was little chance his clearance hadn’t been revoked yet he’d kept the card. 

As he was in many things, Ignis was right. Ravus passed his card under the scanner and the doors clicked over to unlocked. He didn’t mind being wrong, but it raised the question of why he’d been wrong. “I know the Empire has its inefficiencies,” he said, “but I think updating security to keep out one that has been declared a traitor and marked for death would be a priority to be seen to immediately.”

“Technically they said you were really bad at your job,” Prompto said, “but yeah, that was over a month ago so not a whole lot of room for them to talk there.”

Ravus ignored the correction. “Commodore Highwind mentioned the difficulties the Empire was having well before she left for Tenebrae. This could either be a symptom of the situation being far more dire than she realized or this is a trap.”

“It’s Ardyn,” Noctis concluded. “I’m thinking it’s both.”

“Way to think positive, Noct!”

Ravus described the interior of Zegnautus, the security system relying on scanning the barcodes on keycards to unlock anything, their ultimate destination of where the Crystal was being kept and the likely direction Ignis and Amicitia would have taken based off where he’d sent them. Heading straight for the central elevator was the quickest way to go. It also ranked as the most dangerous. 

Noctis thought that was an advantage. “You know exactly where to go. There’s three of us compared to two of them and I know Specs says he’s good but realistically, Gladio’s going to be doing any fighting that has to be done. So let’s keep the attention on us. We go for the Crystal. We get all the MTs and daemons pissed off at us and ignoring them.”

Prompto nodded along despite his eyes betraying a fear over how many MTs and daemons they would be angering. Ravus agreed. It was the route he would have chosen himself. It wasn’t so long ago that he wouldn’t have thought Noctis to be prepared to take on the extra burden to protect his friends. Ravus couldn’t say if this was a sign of maturity or another thing he’d had wrong about him all along. 

“Wanna go back and pick up a sword?” Prompto asked. “Or a couple dozen?”

Noctis shook his head. Their course set, he’d tossed away his doubt. “I’ve already got what I need.” He produced the Ring of the Lucii from his pocket and held it in front of him.

The last time Ravus had seen the Ring this close had been back in Altissia when Lunafreya had asked him to take it to Noctis for her. He’d declined mostly out of a belief that his sister truly wanted to and could fulfill the duty herself, but also because he hadn’t wanted the damn thing anywhere near him. To his credit, Ravus could say he didn’t flinch at the sight of it now. Externally, anyway. Internally, his breath caught and he could feel a dull ache where his arm had been.

Prompto was no less wary. “You sure about this, Noct? This is kind of a big deal.”

“Take a commemorative photo,” Noctis joked through a shaky voice. His hands were equally shaking. Nonetheless, his look was of resolve and one trembling hand placed the Ring upon a finger on the other. “There, that wasn’t too-”

Ravus guessed the word Noctis had meant to say was ‘bad’. There was no loss in it going unsaid because it wouldn’t have been correct. Through gritted teeth, Noctis hissed in pain. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and a wave of nausea rolled through Ravus. One of their own, their supposed chosen one at that, and the Lucii demanded judgment.

“Noct, take it off,” Prompto begged and Noctis held up his unringed hand to keep him away.

“No, I’ve got this.” He panted heavily but slowly. He was gaining control. Steadily, the scent of fire faded and Noctis stood to his full height. After several deep breaths, he proclaimed, “Okay, that was some weird shit.”

That seemed to be an act for Prompto’s sake. It worked. He was at Noctis’s side with a reassuring arm around his friend’s shoulder already and wishing he had taken a picture. He couldn’t see the corners of Noctis’s mouth struggling not to wince. He didn’t know the suffering the Ring could bring.

Ravus had tried to forget. Whatever success he’d had in doing so he felt was more owed to it being impossible to recreate the overwhelming sensation of every nerve of his body being struck and aflame, of the flesh and bone of his arm crackling and charring before collapsing into ash between the fingers of his remaining hand. 

Other than that night at the manor, he and Ignis had not spoken of their mutual experience in donning the Ring. Ignis had called it a kindness for the Lucii to take only his arm in comparison to the loss of sight. There’d been a third option that Ignis hadn’t mentioned. The Lucii could have simply killed him. Ravus never had figured out if sparing his life was a mercy or a further taunt of how little the Lucii had wished to deal with him. When he’d regained consciousness on the Altar and seen Ignis laying prone upon the ground in the excruciating aftermath of his own encounter with the old kings, his confusion had only grown. Ignis had been worthy, he and his motives pure and they’d marked him all the same. 

They’d not let Noctis escape unscathed either. Ravus had admired the resilience, the sheer force of will it must have taken for Ignis to not only continue to speak but to form an argument and plead his case. He could admire the same fortitude in Noctis. Even if the Lucii had dealt him a pittance of the agony they’d given Ravus, to be standing tall with his concern directed towards another was a feat. 

Something of that must have shown in his expression. Noctis’s eyes caught his own and the other man nodded. “Price of power I guess,” Noctis said.

“A high one,” Ravus answered. “And this was for merely putting on the Ring. When you call upon its power, what additional due will they require of you?”

“Don’t know. We’ll have to find out.”

Prompto wasn’t eager for that discovery. Neither, to his surprise, was Ravus. Noctis dismissed their concern. They had a mission. They had a plan. They were going to do both and he would take any consequences for it.

***

The opportunity to discover what the Ring would ask of Noctis came the moment they passed through heavy doors leading into a storage hanger. The Magitek armors were thankfully inactive, the troopers strangely absent but daemons, numerous small and far too many large, roamed free. They needed to get through this area to get to the central pillar and the plan had been to keep eyes on them. They hadn’t necessarily planned for so many eyes at once but in terms of test runs, success here basically assured the rest of the Keep would not be a challenge. Should they meet with failure, at least they’d be able to make a hasty retreat right back through those doors and find another way to go.

There, Ravus was being optimistic. He didn’t truly feel it but that he had made the effort seemed like an improvement. He wouldn’t call it a lack of faith. Prompto was every bit as nervous about this endeavor and Noctis had no greater champion of his abilities save for Lunafreya. Ravus’s doubts remained centered on those damned Lucii.

Noctis had the support of so many. Lunafreya had staked and given her life for him. Ignis had vouched for him with all the devotion he had. Amicitia would readily give his life to protect him. Prompto...he was currently chanting variations of ‘you got this’ and ‘kick that daemon ass’. But could they count on Noctis’s own ancestors being as solicitous?

Ravus could grant that he’d earned a portion of their wrath for how delusional his designs for the Ring had been and for what he’d done to lead him to that moment. A portion, not as much as he’d been given. Ignis though had not deserved any of it. The question he’d asked Noctis lingered in his mind and added others. How much power would they lend Noctis? For how long? What ills would they inflict upon him?

There was another question. He could well picture the knowing looks Lunafreya and Ignis would give him should they have heard it. When had he started to care?

“Okay,” Noctis said with purpose. “Let’s see what this thing can do. You guys cover me.”

Prompto smiled and raised his rifle. It shook only a little before he steadied it. Ravus dropped into a stance that would allow him to rush at their foes. Satisfied, Noctis strode towards a gargantua stalking back and forth in the middle of the hanger. He wasn’t starting small, whether that was a credit to his bravery and confidence or a mark of insanity. His right hand was clenched in a fist and held out in front of him. 

The daemon turned, Noctis raised his hand and the Ring did _something_. A form of magic, intense and violent, took hold of the daemon and began disintegrating it. 

The daemon made no move nor protest as it was dismantled into the ether. What fight could it have made? It was there, hulking and dangerous, then Noctis used the Ring and it was erased from the world as casually as one would wipe away a stain with a cloth. Prompto stood agape. Ravus couldn’t form much of a response either. The childish fantasy he’d had of using the Ring to vanquish his foes played back in his mind, it’s naivete increasing from both how arrogant he’d been to think this power ever could have been his and how grossly he’d underestimated it.

Noctis let out a gasp when the deed was done. He turned back to them and Ravus spotted the sickenly familiar marks upon his skin where the Ring had burned him. Neither as numerous or deep as the scars he and Ignis had suffered, they signaled the Lucii were somewhat gentler with their scion if they couldn’t be kind.

“You okay, Noct?” Prompto asked after he’d regained his ability to speak.

“Think so.” He didn’t look sure of that.

“That was insane. Like...like…”

“Holy shit?”

“Yeah, totally badass holy shit. You are going to kick Ardyn’s ass so hard with that thing.”

_It’s too soon_. The thought came to Ravus in a panic. Defeating Ardyn, he had no qualms with. It was what came after. With the Empire in ruins and Ardyn gone, all that would be left was for Noctis to restore the light? He couldn’t be ready for that though. Ignis wasn’t ready for it. Ravus had warned him back in the quarry that their time to thwart the prophecy might be limited. Ignis had been convinced they would have longer. Noctis had to master the Ring. He had to figure out what to do with the Crystal. 

The first step had been taken. He’d felled a massive daemon on his first go. For the next, the Crystal was waiting for him, a few elevator rides away. Everything was coming together and Ignis wasn’t even with them to figure out what to do about it.

The other daemons noticed the lack of their brother. They were not pleased by it. The smaller goblins gathered in a pack and charged toward them. A second gargantua lumbered in their direction. 

“Um, Noct, maybe some more Ring zappy action?”

This was a tangible thing Ravus could handle. He ordered Prompto to keep the gargantua at bay with gunfire while he took on the goblins. Noctis moved back to be beside Prompto, readying himself to use the Ring again. Ravus had dispatched three of the goblins and was about to take care of the rest when wraith-like daemons descended upon the hanger.

“Like a lot more Ring zappy action,” Prompto shouted. 

“Let me focus,” Noctis answered in a whisper. Ravus’s attention went back to the goblins. Whatever Noctis was planning to do, he needed a chance to do it.

At first, Ravus attributed the pain in his prosthetic to an injury that he hadn’t been aware of. He would swear nothing had struck him but his primary use for the arm was to block and any damage was slow to register. He’d hardly felt that dagger Ignis had driven through it. He felt something now though, an ache threading through his arm and spiking so acutely, he dropped Alba Leonis and clutched at it with his good hand.

He thought his vision was blurring but looking around the hanger, he could see everything in its standard sharpness. It was the daemons that were blurring. They were being twisted by a great force, warped and thrown out of existence. 

Then all was clear. The hanger was empty. The pain was gone. Noctis was panting heavily from the bizarre magic he’d cast while Prompto stumbled over the words to describe it.

“What the...you just...like a daemon black hole...thing? That’s like your super move, right? ‘Cuz I don’t know how you get more awesome than that.”

“Me neither,” Noctis said between pants. “I think I need to sit down.”

Prompto shuttled him over to a crate that could serve as a chair. After fussing over Noctis, he switched over to Ravus. “You okay? Heard you drop your sword. One of the daemons get you?”

Confusion and the memory of pain echoed through his head. The goblins hadn’t touched him, he grew more certain of that . It was the Ring. Its magic had sought out daemons and found something within his Magitek arm that it had wanted to rend and cast away. He couldn’t deny it any longer. 

To himself. He wouldn’t put his fears on his companions. “I’m fine,” Ravus insisted. 

Prompto, naturally, was more insistent. “I can take a look at it. I’m pretty good with Magitek stuff. Not like Cid good, but I can fix minor stuff.”

“Cid?” Asking was a cheap distraction. Ravus didn’t care to know but he cared less to think of what would have become of him if Noctis hadn’t stopped when he did.

“Old cranky guy at Hammerhead. He’s a genius. Him and his granddaughter, Cindy. She’s real smart and great with the Regalia and super sweet and...um, not relevant right now, but uh, that looks like a repair room over there. Let me check it out.” 

Embarrassed by his fawning over whoever this Cindy person was, Prompto rushed over to the storeroom before Ravus could tell him not to bother or at least remind him he’d need the keycard to get in. Ravus followed him, and had the card in hand, but the door slid open automatically and Prompto walked in without breaking stride. Ravus waited for it to sync shut again and held the card out from where he stood. As he thought, he’d been too far away to trigger the sensor. So how had Prompto done it?

His curiosity piqued, Ravus entered the storeroom. Parts and tools were strewn across the countertops. Either the workers had disappeared mid-shift or Prompto had gotten very industrious very quickly. Ravus wouldn’t rule out the latter. In the minute he took to observe Prompto, the entire contents of a tool kit, a strange type of bladed weapon and various pieces of metal were tossed onto the counter.

“Lots of cool stuff here,” Prompto said. “The bad guys usually do get the best gear in the movies.”

“I didn’t think anyone in Lucis took interest in Magitek other than finding means to disable it.”

“I’ve picked up some things from MTs. That Cid guy I was talking about fixed ‘em up. Comes in pretty handy in a fight though Gladio made me stop using the one that spreads that green gas around because we kept ending up choking on it. Like I have time to factor in wind direction when a sabertusk is trying to eat me.”

“A prudent decision on Amicitia’s part,” Ravus said evenly. “I never noticed your affinity for Magitek in battle before.”

“Yeah, well, we only really fought together in the quarry and I was covering Iggy so I stuck to my guns then.”

Ravus had his own piece of Magitek he didn’t want to think about. One door opening and Prompto having a hobby based on enemy technology weren’t matters of importance. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “How did you get in here?”

“Uh, the door? You know, the same way you came in.”

“Yes, but how did you get access? Did you pick up a keycard from somewhere?”

That stopped Prompto’s rummaging. He regarded the aforementioned door as if it was another sabertusk that planned to feast upon him. “I don’t know. It just opened. Maybe it’s broken.”

That would be a peculiar way for a door to malfunction. It wasn’t probable but Ravus supposed it might be possible. He supposed also that he could let the whole thing drop but Prompto had paled and begun to sweat, a reaction not at all in proportion to the mystery being presented.

“There is a reason this troubles you?” Ravus asked cautiously.

A large window in the storeroom afforded a view of Noctis sitting on the crate. Prompto stared through it in silence then turned his back to it. “You said the sensors read barcodes to open doors. So like do the Nifs put barcodes on anything besides the keycards?”

That was a basic question with basic answers. Barcodes were on everything. MTs, armors, weapons, supply crates, ships, equipment...anything Niflheim needed to track, that was how they tracked it. Why would Prompto be so unnerved by something so banal?

He clearly was though. His eyes were darting from the door to a spot covered by a black band on his wrist and the sweating had gotten worse. His eyes….

“Your eyes are violet,” Ravus said.

“So are yours! Well, one of them. That’s weirder than mine. I mean, it’s kind of cool, but still weird.”

Ravus hadn’t been born with heterochromia. That was a recent development, a side effect of the Magitek arm. It was the most noticeable sign of the change it had wrought upon his body. He’d never seen that violet color in the eyes of anyone outside of Niflheim. In the Empire it was rare, limited to those with exposure to Magitek. He’d mistaken Prompto’s eyes for blue but under the harsh industrial lighting of this storeroom, the violet stood out. 

It could mean nothing. Many people have unusual eye colors. Many people would find the situation they were in stressful enough to have a physical reaction. Doors could malfunction in very precise ways. He could handwave this all away and they could rejoin Noctis. His instincts told him he should.

But then Prompto began nervously rubbing at the band on his wrist and the movement jostled it so that the print on his skin peaked out from underneath. All Magitek troopers had the same style of barcode at the same location. Ravus had seen thousands upon thousands of them. He couldn’t mistake it for anything else. He couldn’t write it off as coincidence.

Yet, it had to be. The troopers were soulless, mass produced machines. Besithia had done something with daemons to facilitate their production but that was the only spark of organic life they had. Or that’s what Ravus had assumed. Out of cowardice and denial, he’d never pursued any information on the troopers other than how to issue instructions. Their actual origins were a deliberate mystery to him.

Prompto realized his mistake with the band when he caught Ravus staring at it. “No point in pretending this is just an ugly tattoo, huh?” he asked shakily while trying to cover it back up. “I’ve always had it. Always hid it. Always hated it. Never knew what it was though. Heard my foster parents fighting one night about it. Mentioned it was Nif, that I was Nif. I never told anybody. I know what that would mean in Lucis.”

The story had drained Prompto. His eyes were wet, on the verge of tears, and he looked close to collapse. He wasn’t done though. He had to know one last thing. “So what does it mean in Niflheim?”

Ravus knew what it had to mean but he wouldn’t accept it. All the times he had dealt with the troopers, he’d found nothing in them beyond their programming. They were pieces of equipment, objects, lifeless. Prompto was the complete opposite. Other than Ignis, he’d had been the friendliest, most open and accepting of Ravus. He had an earnestness in him, an optimism that could be shaken but didn’t break, a _liveliness_ that had annoyed him on occasion but couldn’t be denied.

Ravus was reminded of Lunafreya in that. She’d been vastly more refined than Prompto but that innate core of kindness was a commonality.

He wondered how Ignis would handle this. Hiding the remainder of the prophecy from everyone was a clue. He couldn’t put off answering Prompto to confirm. Gods, if he hadn’t been so stupidly curious about a door, if he hadn’t used that curiosity to distract him from what had happened with his arm, if he hadn’t gawked like an imbecile at the mark…

Prompto deserved a response, whether it was his suspicions or a prevarication. Ravus had leaned towards the latter when dealing with his own prosthetic only to receive a demonstration of the importance of listening to what you need to hear over what you wish. That didn't mean Prompto had the same need. Daemons were a source of the Magitek troopers yet Prompto hadn’t been affected in the slightest by Noctis’s use of the Ring. He might have, ages ago, been prepped to become one, but had escaped the process which rendered all of this moot.

It was moot regardless. Prompto wasn’t a trooper by any measure. The barcode was a troublesome relic of a past that had no bearing on the present. Nothing would be served by making it what it wasn’t or implying Prompto was less than he was.

Nothing would be served by hurting someone already in pain. That too reminded Ravus of Lunafreya. Her spirit had shined bright while in other’s company, always keeping her suffering and tears buried inside until prying eyes were well away. Prompto had lived with that code on his wrist and doubts in his head until now with his own genial facade.

“The workers of the lower class were as chattel to the Empire,” Ravus said. “They were marked as such.” By social stigma, not a barcode, but he wasn’t telling Prompto this for accuracy. 

“Like factory worker drones? Couldn’t be trusted to do their jobs without being tracked all the time?”

“It would be an efficient if not dehumanizing way to ensure productivity.”

“So that’s it? The Nifs are jerks to workers and I got smuggled out somehow so I wouldn’t have to live like that?”

Ravus had been dancing around lying. He might as well commit. “I’ve heard tales to that effect.”

“Wow,” Prompto exhaled deeply. “Seriously, wow. I’ve been freaked out by this creepy thing my whole life and it’s kinda nothing.”

“Exactly, it’s nothing.”

“Okay, that’s awesome. Dude, I am so glad we talked about this.” Prompto was smiling now, his nervousness converted to the giddiness of extreme relief. 

In fact, Prompto looked so relieved, Ravus couldn’t tell if that was an argument for or against the lie. Should he ever learn the truth, that relief would turn to torment. How would he learn though? The Empire had fallen. The only two people left with the familiarity with Magitek troopers required to tell were Ardyn and Aranea Highwind. Any revelations from Ardyn could be written off as the mind games the man liked to play. Highwind would never. 

Watching Prompto resume his normal posture and countenance, reinforced another point - it _was_ nothing. However he’d gotten it, whoever he’d been intended to become, this was who he was instead. 

“Could we keep this between us though?” Prompto asked. “I still don’t want the guys to know.”

“You think they would judge you for roots in Niflheim?”

“They...no, that’s not who they are. But I lied to them. All these years, I’ve been lying to them.”

Ravus had to laugh. Of all the fears to have… “Did you forget to whom you are speaking? Do you need further testament to their capacity for forgiveness?”

“Good point. I mean Gladio still thinks you’re kind of a jerk, but I think Noct trusts you. Iggy totally does. You got my back on this, right?”

That depended entirely on what the exact definition of having his back on this would be. Ravus erred on the generous side of a vague notion of general protectiveness that allowed for a possible future discussion with Ignis on the best way to proceed. “I will guard your secret.”

A bang on the window startled them both. It was only Noctis, rested, ready to continue and trying poorly to conceal how amused he was that he’d made them jump like that. “Hate to interrupt but we got more daemons coming. Don’t want to get too crazy with the Ring without backup.”

Prompto gave him the thumbs up, his cheerleader persona back at full strength already. “Nah, buddy. You could take ‘em all single handed.”

“Single fingered, actually. Too bad it’s not the finger I want to give them.”

“The daemons wouldn’t understand much less appreciate the sentiment,” Ravus said. “Though for Ardyn, it might be befitting to change ring fingers.”

The smile Noctis had been suppressing came out in full. “Damn, Ravus told a joke. Should get a commemorative photo for that too.”

“On it,” Prompto promised. After Noctis left to check on those incoming daemons, he did get out his camera but it seemed it was cover to ask, “Do you think he heard what we were talking about?”

“I think he would not care if he had. You shouldn’t let your fears burden you so heavily.”

“That’s pretty much what Aranea said. I guess sometimes it’s good to let all that bad crap out anyway. Maybe when we’re not fighting hordes of daemons and a super powered douchebag though.”

Ravus agreed on both counts. He well knew how his conversations with Ignis had eased his own burdens. They’d done more than that. Before, Prompto’s secret would have been merely a piece of information to be used or discarded as deemed necessary. That he actually cared, that he wanted to protect him from that secret...maybe he remembered more of his old self than he’d thought. Maybe it would be easier to be that person again.


	14. The King (of Light) and I (and Prompto) - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And part 2 - Noctis's turn and the truth.

They made it to the central pillar without too much trouble. Noctis had to use the Ring twice and while Ravus experienced a light pull on his arm each time, the severe pangs that had nearly crippled him didn’t occur again. Either the Ring’s magic had decided it wasn’t a target or Noctis’s proficiency in directing that magic was getting sharper. Despite lecturing Prompto on letting his fears stew, Ravus fretted over the implications of Noctis’s quick mastery of the Ring.

Mastery didn’t mean ease of use. Each display of magic left Noctis wanting for respite. The third time all he did was to walk around slowly while he gathered his thoughts but a recovery was needed. Maybe over time that would fade. Maybe after he’d worn the Ring as long as his father had, Noctis could use it at his leisure. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe Regis never had. Maybe the old king had known that whatever damage he would have been able to do by lashing out with the Ring’s power would have left him and Noctis vulnerable and unable to escape Tenebrae.

Maybe.

There’d been no sign of Ignis and Amicitia. None of their phones had gotten a signal since they’d entered Gralea so they couldn’t contact them. Access to the central area was limited from the administrative side Ravus had sent them to, a fact Ravus repeated while Prompto’s imagination ran away with wild scenarios on their possible fate. Neither of them were doing that well on the not worrying front.

Noctis, thankfully, had a level head. “The Citadel had an entire floor dedicated to monitoring the building. This place must have security out the ass too. We find them, try to talk to them somehow and once we’re back together, then we go for the Crystal.”

“We can reach the communications level through this elevator,” Ravus said. “There are numerous cameras and intercoms throughout the Keep. Locating them shouldn’t be an issue.”

_“Unfortunately, gentlemen, that room is presently occupied.”_

Leave it to Ardyn to make the on-cue demonstration of the intercom system into a massive aggravation. Noctis and Prompto rolled their eyes with Prompto adding a mimed gag, which was no doubt relayed in high definition to a monitor in front of Ardyn.

“What do you want now?” Noctis asked with a sigh.

_“To play the proper host, of course. I hope you’re enjoying your tour of the Keep. Ravus, you’ll note I’ve made a few changes since you’ve been here last.”_

Only one change stood out. “You killed everyone,” Ravus said.

_“Killed? Oh my no! I’ve been doing some….renovating. I’ve liberated these people from the mundanity of their existence. I’ve set their true selves free.”_

Ravus tried to keep his voice even by summoning the old dispassion he’d had for this city and its people. That he was coming to care about the loss of humanity here, if only in a general sense, would be used as a weapon against him. “You turned them into daemons.”

_“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. None of them are worrying about making quota or paying their mortgage, I assure you. I must confess, some eggs were broken in the process of cooking this existential omelet, but the gods do love their sacrifices, don’t they?”_

“You seem to like sacrifices a whole lot too,” Noctis countered.

The intercom crackled with the sound of hastily expelled air against a microphone. _“Pride in difficult work done well,_ ” Ardyn said after a beat. 

“Yeah, it’s real hard killing the innocent and unsuspecting with super daemon powers. Probably took you longer to come up with that bullshit excuse.”

Prompto silently clapped at Noctis’s retort. Ravus bristled. Ardyn’s love of hearing his own voice didn’t preclude him from having another goal. He was always baiting, setting traps. He wanted something from this argument with Noctis.

_“The innocent? Here in Niflheim? How magnanimous you are to your enemy. Pity that comes after you fed them to those tetchy spirits in your ring. So hungry, those Lucii. And you, their true descendent with your valiant words masking black deeds.”_

“If an asshole hadn’t turned them into daemons in the first place, Noct wouldn’t have had to do anything to them!” Prompto shouted.

_“Yes, I’m quite certain Noct would have led to most peaceful assault in all of legend. Please, the only difference is that the blood on your hands would be quite literal instead of miasma dissipating into the air. How many troopers have you hacked to bits with celebratory handshakes to mark the deed?”_

“Those were MTs, not people…” Prompto started.

Ravus couldn’t let him finish. Ardyn gave less than a damn about the troopers. He’d only mention them for another purpose. The Six only knew how long he’d been watching them and with Ardyn’s involvement in Magitek development, it was likely he’d known about Prompto all along. 

The mind game excuse would play well, especially with Ardyn’s demeanor, but Ravus didn’t want to get within a mile of it. “You haven’t answered Noctis’s original question,” he said. “I suspect your goal wasn’t to deter us by nattering on for hours.”

_“I’m not deterring you from anything_. As I did answer, _I merely wish to be a good host. That includes small talk. I realize you’ve both lost the kingdoms that gave you your royal blood, but you didn’t need to lose the decorum with which you were surely bred along with them.”_

“Uh, huh, sure,” Noctis snapped. “If I need to know which fork to use at my next meal, I’ll get back to you Mr. Manners. Otherwise, we’ve got stuff to do.”

_“Oh, I never can remember all those silly rules about cutlery. That’s a task for your advisor friend. Now, where was he again? Let me check the monitors...No, not there. No again. Ah, there he is! Goodness, that daemon has rather sharp claws and teeth. Oh, dear, that’s unfortunate. Well, you could always find a good book about dining etiquette instead.”_

In his head, Ravus knew the odds that Ardyn was making this up to hurt them were high. That didn’t stop his heart from racing or his stomach from dropping. Beside him, Noctis had clenched his right hand into a tight fist while Prompto angrily shook his head in rejection of Ardyn’s farce.

_“Kidding!” Ardyn announced with chuckles at his own sick joke. “You should have seen your faces! There’s nothing quite like japing with good friends.”_

“We’re done here,” Noctis barked. “Change of plan. Let’s go get the Crystal so we can shove it up this bastard’s ass. We’ll get Specs and Gladio on the way out.” He gestured for Ravus to open the elevator doors with his card.

It figured Ardyn would chose that moment to finally revoke Ravus’s clearance. The doors remained shut. The override code Ravus put in manually didn’t work either.

_“No free rides for the rude,_ ” Ardyn said. “ _You see, your friends said please and now they’re riding in luxury to the top. You three can walk._ ” The intercom clicked off.

“Does he think he’s punishing us by shutting up?” Prompto asked.

Ravus ushered them away from the central pillar out towards a large balcony overlooking the city. Observation equipment was set up there as it was inside, but the noise from the city, limited as it had become, should cover their voices if they kept them to a whisper. Ardyn wasn’t talking but none of them thought for a second that he’d stopped listening. 

They discussed possible new routes to take. They could ascend higher in the Keep without using the central elevator but they’d never reach the Crystal without it. Ravus listed several optional paths but there was a particular one he favored.

“Not that I trust Ardyn, but if Ignis and Amicitia are using an elevator in the wing they’re in, the highest level they can reach is the security level Ardyn is on. I doubt we can find them before he does but I do not wish to leave them overlong in his custody.”

Prompto was all for taking off that second but Noctis wanted to consider. “What is his game? We were already headed for Ignis and Gladio before he started yapping. What’s the point in herding us to where we were already going?”

Prompto thought he was trying to keep them away from the Crystal. Out of worry for his friends, he didn’t think this meant they should spite Ardyn by going straight for it.

Ravus tried to make sense of it. Ignis had successfully determined Ardyn’s motives during the attack on the train. He needed to do a similar methodical breakdown, or as good of an approximation as he could muster. Talking it through was favored technique. “With the powers he demonstrated, why doesn’t he simply drive us into unconscious again and wait for daemons to find us? Why not turn us into daemons? Foiling us seems less of a goal than antagonizing us.”

“Maybe he just gets off on being a jerk,” Prompto suggested.

No one disagreed with that theory. It was Ardyn they were talking about. Capricious didn't cover his whims. The only consistency Ravus saw in them was they held Noctis was at their core. “He told me the assistance he gave you in reaching the Archaean was necessary to lure the Astral. He reused that excuse for Altissia and the Tidemother. His appearance on the train was to hurt you mentally, not physically. And now, he provokes you, even as we approach his last refuge.”

“You think he’s been stringing me along, all while helping me, for what exactly? He wants to fight a worthy foe or crap like that?” 

“It does kinda suck when you fight the final boss and you’re massively underleveled,” Prompto said. “I mean I get it’s _challenging_ and all, but doing two digit damage, healing up, two digit damage, heal-” He stopped when he realized Ravus was staring at him. “Yeah, I know I said he was a mid-boss before...and yeah, you don’t get these references.”

Ravus did understand this one, in a fashion. Noctis’s final challenge was to defeat the darkness to bring back the light. Such a nebulous term, the darkness - a concept rather than a tangible thing to overcome. The research he and Ignis had done hadn’t clarified that point either. But what if Prompto had?

Ardyn’s array of powers, where did they come from if not a well of great darkness? The man had rendered the people of a whole city into daemons. The illusions, the sudden way he could appear and disappear, the refusal of any wound to take and do him lasting harm - these were not gifts from the Astrals Ravus had ever heard of. And his obsession with Noctis...would Darkness call to any other than the Light?

That damned prophecy again and every time it reared its head, it was to rush faster to its awful conclusion. Again, Ravus wished that Ignis was here. 

They’d have to make a decision before they could find him too. All Ravus could do was tell Noctis what he guessed about Ardyn and try to make that decision as informed as it could be.

“Noctis, may I speak with you privately?” Ravus asked softly.

Noctis quirked an eyebrow in response to the unusual request. Prompto mumbled half-jokingly and half-seriously about being excluded but waved Noctis away.

They walked to the balcony’s edge. At this height, they could see rooftop after rooftop until they blurred into the horizon.

“Whatever you can say to me, you can say to Prompto. You know I’ll tell him later anyway.”

It wasn’t meant as a chastisement, but a reminder of how close Noctis’s group was. That closeness was the very reason Ignis had kept quiet about the prophecy. It was the reason Ravus felt he no longer could.

“Our goal here was to defeat Ardyn, reclaim the Crystal and then find the means to use the Crystal to dispel the darkness.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I think we may have the wrong order of it. Ardyn’s power is far greater than we supposed and I believe he does not derive it from the darkness so much as the darkness derives from him.”

Noctis considered that and rooted his memory for more. “What was it called? Adage or something? Ignis told me more about it than dad did but it sounded like a legend. All this stuff does.”

Ravus didn’t know what he was referring to and Noctis didn’t have much to enlighten him with.

“Basically, your typical ancient evil Big Bad that the hero needs to defeat. Which makes sense for Ardyn with all the crap he does, but you don’t really picture the great Scourge of Eos being a creepy middle-aged dude wearing vaudeville hand-me-downs.” He let out a huff. “Maybe that’s why my dad didn’t tell me that much about it. He knew I wouldn’t believe him.”

“Do you believe I’m correct?”

“It’s the most concrete answer I’ve had about my grand destiny. Luna said I was going to banish the darkness, Gentiana is all ‘o, king of kings’, and I know fuck all of what I’m supposed to do for any of it. Make covenants. Okay, done, that is sweet for combat. Get the Ring. Got it, it’s freaky as hell, but yeah, great daemon killing action. Get the Crystal. Sure, I’m on it, but what do I do when I get there? Bahamut texts me an instruction manual? How do all of them come together? So, yeah, ‘kill the hobo’ is a nice, clear objective and after everything he’s done, I’m on board with it.”

“You are unsure of your destiny?”

“If you’d been told you’re supposed to save the world, wouldn’t you think, ‘Really? Me?’”

He wasn’t sure when or why he’d picked up the habit, but Ravus flexed the fingers of his prosthetic. “I once had the arrogance to assume I was worthy of the task. I think your humility is the better approach.”

“I’ll do what I have to do. But, you know, a checklist would be nice.”

“I’m sorry. I am only theorizing about Ardyn and all I know is what you’ve already said. Lunafreya knew her part was to wake the Astrals from their slumber and yours was to forge the covenants but what comes after…” Ravus stopped. He could only say what came at the end.

“I wish my dad had talked to me about this. I get that he sheltered me and why, that he wanted me to have a normal life but there were times I’d catch him looking at me all sad and it was like, he was seeing me as somebody else. I used to think I reminded him of my mom and he spoiled me because he knew how hard it was to be king but now... He knew all this King of Light crap too. Didn’t say so; he’d just nod along when I told him what Luna had told me, but he had to have known.”

It was obvious once Noctis had said it, but like so many things, Ravus hadn’t considered it until it was laid out in front of him. He began rethinking Regis’s choices and wondered which had been done for his son and which for the King of Light. He wondered if Regis had known the prophecy’s final decree.

He listened as Noctis divulged more about his childhood, what indulgences he’d been granted and what he hadn’t been allowed to skip. Martial lessons had been of the highest importance. That added together with what Ignis had told him, Noctis’s education in governance had been less strict than his advisor’s, as if the prince hadn’t necessarily been meant to rule.

Camping trips, his own apartment, a public job, ample leisure time with his friends - these weren’t things accorded to a boy being groomed for a throne. They sounded like consolations given to one who otherwise would never have the chance to experience them.

Ignis had asked Ravus if he rather know his fate or be ignorant of it. He’d chosen knowledge for himself and for himself, he continued to believe that was the right answer. Ignis had chosen differently, for Noctis at least. But he’d done that on the belief he could stop it from happening. 

Regis, apparently, had done it to allow Noctis to enjoy what life he’d be able to live.

With that fate looming closer and closer, could Ravus keep doing it? They were undecided on pursuing the Crystal or finding their companions. Should Noctis chose the first, the end could come without him seeing Ignis or Amicitia again. That alone was reason to tell him.

And it felt wrong, to let this person before him, currently smiling at his own story about how all of Insomnia’s Glaives had developed a sudden fondness for sushi the precise moment Noctis had begun working at working at a restaurant that specialized in it, go forward in ignorance without warning of what would befall him.

Ravus tried to tell him. “Noctis,” he said, interrupting a reenactment of a weak-stomached Glaive’s first taste of roe. “There is more to the prophecy than you’ve been told, more than my sister knew, I believe.”

Noctis’s expression shifted in seriousness to match Ravus’s. “It’s not a checklist, is it.”

He chose his words carefully. “It...is something expected of you. Your fate-”

“Don’t.”

“I thought-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Noctis said with finality. “I’m not doing any of this because the Astrals made up a story a long time ago and I feel I have to act out the lead part. I’m doing this because the Nifs destroyed Insomnia and took the Crystal and everything’s gotten increasingly more messed up since then. I’m doing this because it’s getting darker and darker and I don’t want the whole world overrun with daemons. I’m doing this because Luna believed in me. I’m doing this to protect my friends. I don’t care what any prophecy says. Whatever I need to do to fix this, I will chose on my own to do it.”

There it was, then. Noctis had no need of the warning because he had no need of the prophecy to begin with. Had he been the callow boy Ravus had dismissed him as in the past, the attitude could be attributed to recklessness or an arrogance that he could not fail. _Those were my faults_ , Ravus thought. The man Noctis had become didn’t share them.

He still owed Noctis a truth. For whose sake he couldn’t say. Noctis deserved to hear this and he deserved the chance to let this go. “My apologies,” Ravus said. “I’ve had the wrong of you all along. If I’d listened to my sister, so much of this strife could have been avoided.”

“If I’d known what Luna was doing, what it was costing her, I would have tried to stop her. I would have tried to find some other way.”

“You would have failed. You are formidable, Noctis Lucis Caelum, but you would not have withstood Lunafreya’s will.” That, Ravus was sure of, not because of his own failure but because that was how damnably stubborn his sister had been.

Noctis let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I remember. No late bedtimes, no missed exercise sessions, no extra dessert. You’d think being a sick little kid would buy some sympathy but she held firm. She was really sweet about it and all and it was for my own good but still. You, on the other hand, were a huge pushover.”

“I don’t recall,” Ravus said defensively. It was more like he hadn’t thought it about it since it had happened. Positive memories of anything Lucian hadn’t been a priority. They were there though and dug up easily enough as Noctis described the memories he’d chosen to hang on to.

“You remember that meteor shower? Luna and your mother said it was too late at night and too cold outside for me to watch but a little strategic whimpering and I got you to wake me up and sneak me out in the dead of night.” In an unconvincing Tenebraen accent, Noctis continued, “ _For a few moments only and you musn’t tell anyone_.”

“Your impersonation of me is wore than Prompto’s of Ignis.” He did remember saying those words though. He remembered giving Noctis a piggyback ride up to the rooftop deck because that was the easiest way to handle both him and the blankets he’d brought. He remembered Noctis laughing and saying if they got caught, they could hide under the blankets and pretend they were ghosts.

He remembered the first thing they saw when they’d gone outside had been Lunafreya, huddled under her own pile of blankets with one hand sticking out and poised over her drawing pad. She’d felt bad that Noctis had to miss this and had wanted to capture the moment the best she could for him.

A few moments had ended up as hours on the roof that night, the three of them pressed together for warmth. Ravus and Lunafreya had spent the next day awaiting a lecture every time Noctis sneezed or yawned. They’d celebrated getting away with it by sneaking a pastry out of the kitchens before bedtime, another infraction and a violation of Lunafreya’s dessert ruled but it had felt fitting at the time.

Ravus could nearly smell the sweet scent of that pastry, could hear Lunafreya making them promise to never do anything like that again. 

“She sent me one of the pictures she drew that night,” Noctis said, “in the notebook we shared. I wrote her about how me and Ignis like to go stargazing too and she sent it back with her reply. I wish we could have had another night like that.

“I wish…I wish I could have saved her.”

It was strange, hearing his own regrets in Noctis’s voice. There was consolation in it. Another point for Ignis – they should have had this conversation sooner. As for now, they could only enjoy a few seconds of shared silence. Their mission awaited.

“We need to chose our path,” Ravus forced himself to say. 

“Yeah, got to move on,” Noctis agreed. “I think I really get what my dad meant when he talked about a king always looking forward. Whatever horrible things that have happened. you gotta deal with it or even more horrible things can happen. And sometimes, your only options are one horrible thing or another horrible thing and you’ve got to pick one because doing nothing is the worst option of all.

“You know, like having to bail on the people who just helped you-”

“Don’t,” Ravus repeated the admonishment. "You don't need to." This wasn’t Noctis’s apology to give and, for the first time in twelve years, one he didn’t need to hear.

“Okay,” Noctis said. He smiled, a faint grin of determination and sadness. “So we’re all good?”

Not truly. Ignis likely wouldn’t consider this an ideal time but after the frank exchange he and Noctis had, Ravus decided it was right. 

“Insomnia-” Ravus began, only to run into the third command to stop between them.

“You were there. You were with the Nifs. I can gather the rest. I don’t need specifics. You’re here now. That’s what I’m going to count. So we’re all good?”

“Yes,” Ravus said. How precious it was to mean it.

+++

_“You’re getting colder_ ,” trilled Ardyn’s voice over the intercom.

They’d voted on finding Ignis and Amicitia first, partly because of Ravus’s argument that the Crystal would be under heavy protection and the greater strength they would have in numbers would be useful in retrieving it. That this also addressed the concern they had for their friends while ensuring Ignis would be able to see Noctis before...whatever was to happen…played another, unspoken yet no less persuasive, part.

They’d all been happy with the choice until they’d reentered the Keep and a click from the intercom indicated it was back on and their search would not be done in silence.

There were only so many ways to get over to the elevators that led to the administrative sectors. They couldn’t be that far off. Ardyn’s insufferably constant updates indicated otherwise.

_”Alas, that door requires security clearance. Traitors will only get a chilly reception.”_

_”Do you even remember what warmth is?_

_“That hallway? No, might as well have summoned the Glacian.”_

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” Prompto shouted.

Ravus didn’t blame him for losing his temper. The chatter was vexing. The fact that it seemed to be accurate was outright infuriating. They should have found them by now.

_”Noct, I think you and I should have a talk about the quality of your associates. Foul language, bad manners, terrible sense of direction. They’re leading you astray.”_

“I like them better than you,” Noctis whispered. Louder, he asked Ardyn, “But you can set me on the right path, right? That’s why you’ve been stringing me along? Please tell me it’s a bigger picture than that wanting a worthy foe crap.”

_“Quite, but I wouldn’t wish to spoil the surprise. These bleak times, we need to take our enjoyment where we can find it.”_

“And you enjoy tormenting people,” Prompto said.

_”I have some spoilers for you, young man, if you care to hear them. We could make a game of it! I’ll give you hints and we’ll see if you can crack the code.”_

Using the word ‘code’ was as childish as it was chilling. It confirmed to Ravus that Ardyn knew the truth about Prompto and found it amusing. Ravus did not. “You’ve grown bored of your original game already? I never thought you would acknowledge your own tedium.”

_”Disappointed in my hosting efforts or is it that you prefer other company?”_

“Dude, anybody on Eos would prefer talking to a tonberry over you,” Prompto answered on Ravus’s behalf.

_”They are charming creatures. Not very skilled at conversation. Deft with knives, though. That’s a skill you find admirable, isn’t it, Ravus?”_

What, in all the names of the Six, had brought that on? He was obviously referencing Ignis. Ardyn had singled him out before during that sick charade with the monitors. Why bring him up again and specifically to Ravus? It wasn’t possible for Ardyn to know of any bond between them. Ignis had been heavy in Ravus’s thoughts but he hadn’t said his name aloud to his recollection. 

Unless Ignis had said something unaware that he was being monitored… What that could have been was a curiosity they could ill afford. “”Don’t you have a pithy comment about the temperature for us?”

_”I see you’re eager for a reunion. You are getting warmer. Flushed, you might say.”_

Prompto looked ready to take aim at the intercom speakers. He’d threatened to do it before but Noctis had dissuaded him. Petty and grating as Ardyn’s games were, he’d thought they might find hints in them. Noctis hadn’t been wrong; Ravus just hadn’t cared for the hints they’d uncovered. And if they were that close to finding Ignis, he would put up with it.

They continued heading in the direction that had caused the shift from cold to hot, making their way towards the detention area where political prisoners had been kept. Ravus had always hated this part of the Keep. It was where he and Lunafreya would have been sent had she not had the role of Oracle and he hadn’t sold his soul to Niflheim. The cells boasted the same sterile design as the rest of Zegnautus. Overly bright industrial lighting beamed down upon a cot, a table and a toilet. The cleanliness spoke of the workers' dedication and thoroughness in keeping the cells scrubbed and spotless, not of the treatment their occupants received.

The cells were, for better or worse, empty. They lacked the telltale sign of abandoned clothes which suggested the prisoners that had been in them when he’d left for Altissia had avoided the fate of being turned into daemons. What Aldercapt had done with them instead would likely not have been pleasant either. His empire crumbling, surely the old man had wanted for someone to take his rage out upon. Had he not gone with Ignis, Ravus thought it likely that someone would have been him.

He’d been condemned to death by the Empire. In the immediate aftermath of Altissia, Ravus had been indifferent to that sentence. What had been left for him? He’d wanted to honor his promise to Lunafreya about the sword and to deliver the truth of her passing to Maria and the rest of the staff at Fenestela Manor. Beyond that, he’d wanted nothing, or nothing it was possible to regain. A last, defiant stand against Aldercapt might have gleaned a measure of satisfaction for him. He couldn’t imagine what other purpose he would have found otherwise.

But following Ignis, trusting him, confiding in him - that had brought him ample purpose. It had brought him camaraderie. It had brought him peace. 

These dismal cells were unfortunately not the place to dwell on such a reverie, calming as it was. Deactivated troopers were scattered across the floor. Noctis prodded one with his foot while Prompto was incredulous that he’d tempt every single horror movie cliché like that.

“I think they’re out, Prom,” Noctis said. “Aranea said something about them acting crazy when we were in Tenebrae. Maybe they finally crapped out.”

That confidence and all their nerves were shaken by the sudden sound of scraping metal coming from another wing of cells. Ardyn didn’t volunteer any information but gave an amused titter. Ravus was not going to be deterred by sound effects. He strode towards the source over further disbelief from Prompto that anybody would go into a dark hall alone.

A single trooper with an ax stood in the middle of the hall. By itself, it wasn’t a threat. The halting movements it made in the few seconds between it noticing Ravus and being cleaved by Alba Leonis spoke of the defects Commodore Highwind had noted.

“Okay, so actual ax murderer craziness is what she meant,” Noctis said. He came to stand beside Ravus, reusing his poke with foot to examine technique to no avail.

“It’s a malfunction obviously, but not like any I’ve seen,” Ravus said.

“Um, guys…”

“Everything else is going to hell here. Why wouldn’t the MTs glitch out in the creepiest way possible?”

“Guys!”

Ravus shook his head. The more he thought it about it, the stranger it seemed. “Troopers remain stationary when not issued commands. In the event of a defect, they’re supposed to suspend all functions.”

_”Noct? Ravus? Your friend is screaming in terror. You may wish to attend to him.”_

Prompto had actually stopped yelling and he wasn’t quite at terror yet but he wasn’t calm. His eyes were wide and his guns were out and trying to settle on a shot in a room that was suddenly full of targets. The troopers were no longer deactivated, nor were they strewn across the floor. They were standing up with the same jerking motions their fallen fellow trooper had displayed.

“I told you not to kick them!” Prompto said before he began firing on the closest unit.

“Yeah, sorry. Should have realized Ardyn was a fan of schlock theater. Ravus, you know a way out of here that isn’t currently a set for Night of the Living Dead?”

He knew the way out. It wasn’t empty. The troopers weren’t too numerous and the few that couldn’t be handled by Ravus’s and Prompto’s conventional weaponry could be dispatched by the Ring. But the sight of them and the jittery manner in which they walked and lunged to attack was at such odds with their former literally programmed precision, it was difficult not to be unnerved.

The was the point, Ravus knew. A standard assault wouldn’t be entertaining enough and would be over too quickly. 

These aberrant troopers didn’t last that much longer. Ardyn commended their performance over the intercom. _”Such a glorious capacity for violence! Truly a trait of the cho-”_

He was cut off by a bang and the sound of an intercom fizzling out. “Whoops,” Prompto said, “I guess my aim was off.”

The reprieve was temporary. The very next room they entered, Ardyn was scolding them for their wanton destruction. He made a show of how generous he was being by continuing to offer heat related clues on their proximity to Ignis and Amicitia as they walked. They were very close going by how he was evoking references to Ifrit. Ravus had never been in this part of the Keep. It housed the equipment that was used to power the upper levels and he’d never had the need to see it. He knew there’d be access to the security floor they were headed to so they continued the plod.

They eventually reached yet another hallway, which set Prompto to whining about Nif architecture, but before they reached the end, the door opened. They had their weapons ready for the worst but unexpectedly got the best they were hoping for.

Ravus thought it could be an illusion. Ardyn could assume to appearance of one person, why not two? Prompto had no such thoughts. He went barreling straight for Ignis and Amicitia without hesitation.

“Hold up,” Noctis said, “it could be a trap.” It, of course, was. A fact made evident by Prompto falling backwards after being shocked by a wall of electricity that had appeared in front and behind them. Noctis helped him up and let his irritation show. “Really? Electrical death trap? What, no poison gas?” 

_”You skipped that part”,_ Ardyn sighed.

Amicitia shut down the power, taking issue with a claim Ardyn had evidently made about not being cliched while he pulled at wires and generally beat on the wall until he got what he wanted. For once, Ravus could admire the brute effort. He also watched Ignis lingering at the door. He was armed with a grade of daggers that didn’t suit him but was better than nothing. Ravus hoped he hadn’t had any need to use them. Physically, he didn’t look that worse for wear. The tears and dirt on his clothes were from the Regalia’s crash. There was no new damage he could spot. Why he was holding what looked to be a rolled up large sheet of paper was curious to Ravus. Perhaps they’d found a map of the Keep and had brought it with them.

His examination was interrupted by the impromptu scrum Noctis, Prompto and Amicitia had formed after the electrical field had gone down jostling into him. While Ravus stepped back to allow them room, he didn’t begrudge their happiness in being reunited.

Ardyn too took note of it. _“Is there nothing more inspiring than the jocund reunion of dear friends?_

_“Enjoy it, gentlemen. The real show is about to begin.”_


	15. So Long and Thanks for All the Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited and it feels so good. Until the Crystal gets the munchies...

Once aboard the elevator, Ignis braced himself for all kinds of horrors. Ardyn going back on his word and he and Gladio dying exceedingly idiotic deaths when the elevator dropped. The doors opening to a lineup of MTs and/or daemons. Ardyn’s version of elevator music. None of that happened, not even Ardyn’s dulcet tones goading them on. They got on, the elevator did its job and they exited to an area devoid of threats. 

Gladio’s description of machinery and lots of it didn’t give Ignis a clue where they were. Where they’d go was easier to figure. Gladio counted off the doors out of there and all but one displayed a red light above indicating their locked status. They headed for the solitary door showing green.

“Now this has to be the trap,” Gladio guessed. “I mean, there has to be a trap somewhere.”

Ignis didn’t disagree, but they didn’t have much choice. Ardyn was wont to do as Ardyn was wont to do and all they could do was try to be ready for it. “This constant waiting for the other shoe to drop is getting tiresome. There’s a difference between being wary and being paranoid.”

“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean there isn’t a creep with magic powers trying to kill you.”

“We know for a fact there is one but let’s just proceed with caution. We’ll deal with whatever footwear Ardyn lets fall our way.”

“Yeah, and then we’ll give him the boot.”

Paranoia won the round. There was a trap behind the door, only it wasn’t for them. Ignis heard Prompto yelling in excitement at them and saw a flash followed by a noise that, if pressed about it, he’d have to compare to a bug zapper. The cursing from Prompto and lecture from Noct implied that while Prompto had been hurt, it wasn’t a serious injury. That could change.

“Shit, it’s on both sides of them,” Gladio said. His sword hit the ground with a loud clang and he shoved that damned poster into Ignis’s hand before going to work on something on the wall. Whatever he was doing was involved a lot of hitting and pulling of things but it worked in the end. The power was shut off and their friends were freed.

Ignis waited to join in on the celebratory hug. With this bunch, with emotions running as high as they were, Ignis didn’t want to blunder in and trip up anyone. Knowing they were safe, even if only for the moment, was all the celebration he needed.

Ardyn, naturally, tried to kill the mood by issuing his bubbliest threat yet. No one felt like listening. His audience unengaged, the intercom clicked off and the bundle of Noctis, Prompto and Gladio came for Ignis to sweep him up. For a relatively tiny guy, Prompto could squeeze nearly as tightly as Gladio. Thankfully, he couldn’t lift Ignis up like Gladio though he did ask what he was holding.

Oh, _that_. “Nothing. A directory we were using,” Ignis lied and chucked the evidence away.

Ignis could practically feel the grin on Gladio’s face. Noctis wasn’t much better. “Not sure what’s so embarrassing about a directory, but whatever. Glad to see you, Specs.”

“Glad to...well, be aware of the dark blob I associate with you, Noct.” Precise vision wasn’t everything, not with Noct’s arm around his shoulder like that.

Ravus had kept his distance during their reunion. Ignis hadn’t figured him for being much of a public hugger. He didn’t want to contemplate if that changed in private. The flush that had burned across his cheeks when Prompto asked about the poster was fading and he didn’t care to bring it back. Gladio, though, would have gotten the best laugh he’d had in a long time and might still as Ravus ambled directly towards Ignis. It didn’t really help that Ignis wouldn’t have minded the contact.

Ravus stopped just short of him instead and leaned in close to say in a low voice, “We have much to discuss.”

There was an urgency in his tone that caused the lightheartedness Ignis had been feeling to flee. He let Ravus lead him away from the others, whatever quips they might come up with no longer a concern. “I take it your journey was much more eventful than mine,” Ignis said, trying to defuse the ill feeling he was getting from the purposefulness and lengths of Ravus’s stride. They were going where they weren’t meant to be heard, which was a clear signal of what Ravus wanted to discuss.

He cut right to it. This wasn’t a blow that could be softened. “Noctis is using the Ring. I cannot say if he’s mastered it, but he wields its magic with certainty and proficiency.”

“No,” Ignis stammered. He knew what the implications were. “He hadn’t even put it on yet. He should need time to learn how to use it.”

“He didn’t need it.” Ravus recounted the daemons Noctis had easily defeated and the strange magic the Ring had produced to do it. He described it in detail, but got strangely vague when Ignis asked if he’d noticed the magic having an effect on anything other than daemons. It didn’t matter. He’d heard enough to know that the magic wasn’t anything he’d heard of before. He would have remembered. It was too unusual, too strong.

And Noct was using it repeatedly with only minimal recovery time. Ignis tried to think. “Fine, he can use the Ring. But the Crystal...he doesn’t have the first clue what to do there. All we have is some fairy tale notion of needing to end the darkness and restore the light. We don’t even know what the hell that entails.”

“We’ve a theory,” Ravus said softly. Ignis didn’t like it despite it making sense. There was more logic in Noctis dying in a fight to defeat a tangible enemy than murky concepts of dark and light. It was a cold, brutal logic made all the worse by the fact that Ardyn was happily awaiting them for that fight, likely a mere few floors away with the final piece of the puzzle, the Crystal. 

“It’s too soon. Ardyn’s too powerful,” Ignis insisted. That was an argument for why Noctis could die but Ignis was clutching at straws. This was all too fast. Fifteen minutes ago, he’d been joking with Gladio. Five minutes ago, he’d been worried about having to explain some stupid poster. An hour from now, Noctis could be gone.

“There’s another thing you should know,” Ravus said and Ignis winced. What could be worse? 

“I tried to tell Noctis the end of the prophecy. He didn’t think it necessary to hear.”

That wasn’t what they’d agreed on. That was a minor infraction in the face of what was looming but it rankled Ignis. Any mention of that damned prophecy would do that though. “Why? You said telling anyone would be my decision…”

“I thought he deserved to know. And at the moment we were as yet undecided on whether to pursue the Crystal or find you and Amicitia first. I did not want him to go to his fate without seeing you again.”

Lovely. Ignis wanted to vent, to rage against something and here Ravus was being considerate. It would have been wrong to take it out on the messenger anyway but Ignis was still flustered and what did ‘not think it necessary to hear’ mean? “So he doesn’t care about the prophecy. He doesn’t believe it?”

“He believes in his duty and he chooses to let that guide him instead.”

“But his duty is to…” Ignis wouldn’t say it.

“I think he may be prepared for that. He doesn’t wish for it but should he have to sacrifice himself-”

“No. The power of the Ring might be giving him false confidence. You should have told him. You should have warned him.” That was cheap and unfair. Hypocritical too, considering he’d snapped at Ravus for trying to tell Noctis at all. But this was what he’d come to - arguing to Ravus that Noct wasn’t fit for his role while Ravus assured him he was. 

And trying to assure him that all wasn’t bleak and lost. “It’s only a theory and even if it proves true, we don’t know that everything happens now. Perhaps this confrontation is merely to drive Ardyn back so Noctis can reclaim the Crystal and the true fight will take place later. As you said, we don’t know what the Crystal does but we do know it’s important.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Ignis said. He repeated it aloud for good measure and then again several times in his head. It had to be true. He didn’t know what he would or could do next if it wasn’t. He knew he couldn’t go on like this. He was the collected one. He looked after the others. Breaking down was not an option.

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt anything,” Noctis yelled over to them, “But do you think we can get going? We’re afraid Ardyn will get on the intercom again if we stay too long.”

Ignis nearly jumped at his voice. Noctis had discussed this with Ravus too so he had to know what might be coming yet there he was, calmly joking about Ardyn and actively trying to get there faster. To lead by example, that was the philosophy Ignis had spent years trying to instill. Of course, Noctis would take it to heart at the worst possible time.

Of course, Ignis had no choice but to follow.

+++

Ardyn apparently wanted them to get to him quickly as well. Full access had been restored to Ravus’s keycard and the group reached the upper levels with minimal enemy contact. They arrived at what Ravus described as a sort of safe room for Emperor Aldercapt.

“Think he’s hiding in there?” Prompto asked.

“Given the contempt Ardyn had for him, I highly doubt he survived unscathed,” Ravus answered. He hesitated before unlocking the circular room, as if unsure what he would do if the doors opened and there was a frightened Niflheim emperor inside. 

There wasn’t anyone there. That wasn’t to say the room was empty. 

“More clothes,” Gladio said. “Fancy, imperial looking clothes.”

Ravus confirmed they did belong to Aldercapt, or they had. There was no sign of what had become of him after he’d been daemonified.

Noctis was checking out something on the wall. “Anybody else getting weird vibes from this panel thing?” After ‘no’s from Gladio and Prompto, Ravus stating he had no clue what it was, and Ignis noting he’d heard the humming sound coming from it before, Noctis figured it wouldn’t hurt to shut it off. He couldn’t find a switch so he went with a classic - he borrowed Gladio’s sword and smashed it to pieces.

It helped, considerably. Ignis felt the distinct rush of the magic he associated with accessing Noct’s armiger. He reached for his favorite set of daggers as a test and had them in hand a second later.

“We’re back!” Prompto shouted. “Or Noct’s back! Whatever! Welcome home, my sweet weapons of mass destruction.”

Noctis and Gladio were similarly distracted with cycling through their supply of arms. Ignis took an inventory of their supplies. He was not going to let Noct fall because they hadn’t brought enough curatives.

“I still find it curious that they could create a device that so specifically targeted Noctis’s armiger,” Ravus quietly mused while he helped Ignis count.

“I gather the answer to that, as it is with many awful things, is Ardyn,” Ignis replied.

“He was the reason the Magitek developed as it did. I avoided Verstahl Besithia and his labs as much as I could but Ardyn loved intimating at his involvement every time Besithia boasted of a new advancement.”

“Think he has more toys like that? The last thing we need is him shutting of Noct’s magic in the middle of a fight.”

“I don’t think he would. Among Ardyn’s endless faults, I don’t think such blatant cheating is among them.”

“Oh, yes, a true sportsman, he is,” Ignis snorted. “Wouldn’t dare have a spot of unfair play get in the way of his goals.”

“I suppose it would help if we had any idea what those goals are. Death and darkness for its own sake seems too mundane for him.”

Ignis didn’t want to care what Ardyn’s motives were. He should, he supposed, since Ravus had a point. Whatever Ardyn was trying to achieve, it was up to Noctis to stop. Any insight as to what the maniac wanted would be insight on how to foil him. He doubted though, that Ardyn would be forthcoming on any secret plans when he could bombard them with pithy comments instead.

“I wouldn’t be certain of that,” Ravus said when Ignis grumbled about it. “His taunts often contain hints if you care to dissect them. It’s a part of his game, to say enough that you can almost detect a greater truth beyond what he says, but to be such a nuisance you don’t wish to examine any further.” 

“So if we get him talking, the secret is to actually put up with him and listen.” _What a wonderful plan_ , Ignis thought. But exceptionally desperate beggars could not be choosers. He would listen to Ardyn recite an encyclopedia if he could find the clues he needed within. 

If only it could be that easy.

+++

Aryden was silent and their path to the Crystal unencumbered. The others expressed relief they were moving so swiftly. Ignis wanted it all to slow down. His thoughts, like his steps, were racing, but they weren’t going anywhere. They kept circling back to what would happen if he failed and so far his best plan was still ‘have a chat with Ardyn’ because he couldn’t focus enough to come up with anything better.

His feelings of desperation got worse when they reached a large open hanger that Ravus stated led directly to the Crystal. Across some catwalks and stairs and up the elevator and they would be at the end.

“Seems too easy,” Gladio said. “Thought he’d put up more of a defense than this.”

“Oh, dude,” Prompto sighed. “You never say that.”

There was no need for Prompto to explain why. The intercom clicked back on and Ardyn happily did that for him. _”A present for you, gentlemen. I’m sure you’ve longed for this chance at revenge. I regret that in his current form though, you may have to use your imaginations_.”

“There’s nobody here,” Noctis said.

They went on alert regardless, the four of them that could see each picking a direction to check. Ignis was resigned to uselessness when he caught that whiff of decay the indicated the Scourge. And was somebody whispering?

“There is something here,” Ignis warned.

Prompto caught sight of it in his quadrant first, then lost it just as quickly. “Floaty daemon. Never seen one like it. It went poof.”

“Poof?” Noctis asked. He told Prompto to nevermind a second later when he spotted it. “Okay, poof as in teleports. This should be super fun.”

“How we handling this?” Gladio asked.

Ignis couldn’t take part in the fight. He had no chance of tracking an enemy that was flickering in and out all over the battlefield. He could still come up with a strategy. He directed Gladio to play the role of bait to get the daemon to stay put long enough for Prompto to hit it from range while Ravus could rush in and Noct warp towards it. The plan must have worked. There were complaints about it moving around too much but they tended to be drowned out by hits on the daemon. Noctis, too, claimed he heard the daemon saying something.

It wouldn’t be the first talking daemon they had encountered. There’d been that spider daemon that had cried for her missing child before trying to kill them all. Prompto had joked of soiled pants even before the daemon had lunged at him. Hearing these creatures speak was unnerving and this daemon wasn’t an exception. It wasn’t going on about a child, but the Crystal.

“Aldercapt,” Ravus concluded at the same time Ignis had pieced it together. “Or what’s left of him.”

The fight didn’t last much longer. Ardyn pouted his disappointment in the poor performance of the daemonized emperor. _“He was quite past his prime but what a lackluster showing! You boys would make much finer daemons, I should think. Perhaps we’ll see._ ”

“How does he keep finding ways to get creepier?” Prompto asked. “He has to hit the bottom of the creepy well sometime!”

He was certainly plumbing the depths of the murderous asshole well. A wall of that scourge scent hit Ignis followed by shouts from all four of his friends on the amount of daemons entering the hanger. Ignis found some utility in pulling flasks from the armiger and tossing the magic bombs at the approaching daemons. With so many targets, he couldn’t miss. He got a few going by their howls but he had to stop once the enemy was close enough for the others to engage.

It became clear in short order that this would not be a brief fight. It might not be a winnable one either. They were handling the daemons they fought well but the numbers were not in their favor. Every daemon downed seemed to result in two more taking their place.

_”You could still get to the Crystal ...if you went on your own._ ”, Ardyn sang over the intercom. _”Your friends will have to stay behind_.”

That drew an angry growl from Gladio but he agreed with the suggestion. “You can’t waste time with these, Noct. Make a run for the Crystal. Take care of ‘em that way.”

Noctis wouldn’t have it but even Prompto told him to go. Ignis knew logically that was the best tactic even as he feared what it would mean for Noct to reach the Crystal and Ardyn by himself.

“Take Ignis with you,” Ravus said. “He’ll be a liability in this melee.”

“Dude, harsh!”

_No, Prompto. It’s the kindest thing he could have done for me_ , Ignis thought. 

Noctis went along with it, albeit with gentler phrasing. “Come on, Specs,” he shouted from across the hanger. “I could use the back up.” He was next to Ignis in an instant with a warp, that familiar motion causing memories of the game they had played as children to hone that skill to flood back. 

Noctis had been nervous practicing his magic around the more experienced Glaives so it had fallen to his trusted friend to help him out. They had practiced in a room padded from floor to ceiling to prevent any injuries from failed warps. Ignis had been padded too, encased in a sort of body armor the Glaives had cobbled together after Noct had smacked into him once and knocked the both of them on their butts. It hadn’t been only protection. Noctis had never failed to laugh at the sight of Ignis waddling around in gear too big and heavy for his adolescent frame. That had eased Noctis anxieties and made it easier for him to follow Ignis’s directions, zipping here and there to fetch the objects that had been placed in different parts of the room or popping up next to Ignis to play Eos’s strangest version of tag.

It had never gotten old for Noctis, yelling ‘got you’ as he poked a startled Ignis and grabbed his hand to raise them both in triumph. He’d done it less and less often after he’d started practicing with Gladio and weapons that were made of harder material than foam but even then, any time he’d observed those sessions, Ignis had run the risk of being on the receiving end of a random jab.

From those silly beginnings, Noct was ready to go to war. He was ready to go to his possible death. Ignis would give anything to go back to the games.

“Let’s get moving,” Noctis said. He took Ignis’s hand once again, this time to guide him.

Ignis willed himself to move. Noctis hollered encouragement to the friends they were leaving behind. Ignis had to believe they would be all right. The three of them were skilled fighters. They would be able to hold out for awhile, or until he and Noct reached the Crystal. Ravus’s knoweldge of the Keep would enable them to retreat to safer ground if need be. 

Beside him, Noct was muttering his own rationalizations on why they would be okay. “None of the daemons were anything we haven’t fought a zillion times before. They don’t need to beat them all, they just need to hang in until we get to the Crystal.”

Ignis didn’t respond. He set his focus into putting one foot in front of the other as fast he could to keep up with Noctis. It was mostly a straight shot to an elevator at the end of a loading bay. Noctis described what he could between his list of reasons why everyone would get through this. They hit the elevator and the gate closed automatically. Its end destination led them to yet another elevator. Ardyn was moving them along purposefully, all while taunting Noctis for making the choice he had recommended.

Daemons manifested around them but they were easily outrun. Concern for their friends was the main problem. Noct was hesitating, not much and Ignis wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t depending on his guidance but it was still hesitation. In so many other circumstances, Ignis would have chided him for it. In the here and now, he was torn between urging him on and wanting to go back.

Ravus had sent him away so he could be with Noctis at this crucial juncture but if any of his friends were hurt, if any of them died, when Ignis could have been there to toss a potion at them at the very least, could he live with that? Trading lives to be a blind witness to Noctis’s destiny - it was a selfish exchange. It had been a choice for Ravus, a choice Ignis would never forget and would do anything he could to repay, but still, that left Gladio and Prompto and their decision to urge Noctis on based on incomplete information. They were sure Noct was going to breeze through this. He was the one looking after Ignis.

He had no choice then but to come up with a way to stop his worst fear from coming true. He would save Noctis instead and that would be their repayment, whatever it took, even if it meant ripping that bloody ring off of Noct’s finger and having another go around with the Lucii to do it. They would want more than his sight this time, all that he could give. He wondered if Ravus would be able to forgive him for it.

He knew what Noctis would say. He was already telling Ignis to stay behind in the elevator once they reached the Crystal’s level.

“And what am I to do in there while you’re confronting Ardyn?” Ignis asked. “Stand idle while you fight for everyone’s life?”

“We don’t know everything Arydn can do but we do know he loves impersonating people. Fighting him solo could help me from making another mistake like I almost made with Prompto.”

Ignis was nearly proud of that answer. “You’ve gotten better making up bullshit excuses. We’ve ways around his illusion tricks. You’re trying to tuck me away in a safe corner.”

“Like you’re not trying to do the same to me. Ravus told me, or he tried to tell me, about this whole King of Light prophecy and what I’m guessing is a bad ending. I’m also gonna guess that you know about it too given how close you two have been since Alitssia.”

Ignis could lie but that would put a crimp in his whole bullshit reprimand. Noct wouldn’t buy it either. “Yes, I know. I thought I could find a way to subvert it but I thought I would have time. Now-” Ignis couldn’t finish, not in front of Noctis, not without his voice cracking. He was immensely grateful his visor was shaded and shielding his watering eyes.

“We don’t know what’s going to happen, Specs. I could beat the crap out of Ardyn and then spend the next fifty years trying to figure out how to make the Crystal do its thing. Or not. Let’s just not go into this thinking we’re all doomed.”

Speech remained beyond him so Ignis nodded. He had to pull himself together. A weeping mess couldn’t save Noct. His composed and controlled advisor had to do it. Believing in his king would be the first step.

Another sprint between daemons led into another elevator. Like the others, it began its ascent without any input from them.

“Least he could do is let us press the buttons,” Noctis complained.

“You always did love that.” The laugh that accompanied that comment wasn’t forced. Another childhood memory came to Ignis - a silly game they had named ‘Elevator Roulette’ that had consisted of them taken turns rapidly spinning around in a circle in the middle of the elevator then dizzily stumbling to the panel and punching a button at random. Whatever floor the door opened on, they had explored until they’d gotten bored or, as it had happened more often, Citadel security had gotten wise to a rogue heir wandering the premises and had escorted them back to their proper stomping grounds. Ignis counted the time he’d had to explain the rules of the game to an exasperated King Regis after an unlucky selection of a weapons testing area as the most nerve wracking moment of his younger years.

“Okay, you’re smiling,” Noctis said, “You’re thinking of that dumb elevator game too?”

“I can’t believe I ever let you talk me into that. Not once, but many times.”

“Eh, I had you wrapped around my finger.”

He still did. No longer to the point that Ignis considered for a second staying put as he’d been instructed but far beyond where he was willing to shield Noct from whatever he could, however he could. _Gladio’s too busy fighting for his life. Somebody’s got to do it_ , he thought with the last bit of humor he had in him.

Ignis felt them reaching their destination before the doors could open. The Crystal’s presence always had been more imposing than its appearance. It was, visually speaking, an overgrown geode. Pretty but not awe inspiring. That was reserved for the power you could sense emanating from it.

Usually. Ignis took two steps off the elevator before being forced to a halt. There was that same tingle running through his body that he’d experienced during the handful of times he’d been in the presence of the Crystal, but what really caused goosebumps to raise along his arms was the fact that he could actually see the thing.

The image wasn’t what he’d call crystal clear, not without an audience that would be in the mood to hear the pun, but instead of the varying shades of black that was his normal vision, Ignis saw the bright outline of the larger rock and could pick out shades of purple and blue in its interior. His sight was for the Crystal only. The rest of Zegnautus appeared as it had since they’d arrived. 

He guessed it made some sort of sense. It was the magic of the Lucii that had blinded him. The Crystal channeled that magic and might have a kind of lingering reaction to it. Ignis wasn’t going to fret the science or magic or whatever it was. Being able to see, however limitedly, was a blessing. “I can see it,” Ignis breathed.

“Huh. Pretty cool. Think it’ll last?”

“It would be foolish to expect such generosity from the Crystal.”

Ardyn’s voice had come not from over the intercom, but from behind the Crystal. Ignis tensed, readying his knives and trying to think how he could pull the Ring contingency plan off.

“It and the kings it serves can be so ruthless,” Ardyn continued. “You prove yourself true to your ancestors, Noct, leaving your friends behind to die like that. Charitable of you to spare one.”

“We’re here to stop you,” Ignis said, his instincts to defend Noctis extending to his honor. “They urged us on and they won’t be readily defeated.”

Arydn came closer, his body becoming a silhouette against the Crystal’s light. “Very noble, very inspiring. A waste though, as I’ve no interest in stopping you at all.”

That was not the response either he or Noctis had expected. It had to be another trick. Arydn didn’t have an earnest bone in his body. But as long he was talking, he wasn’t going after Noct so Ignis was going to have him talk. That had been the plan.

“Then why are you here?”

“Let me tell you a story,” Ardyn said and for once, Ignis didn’t begrudge his loquaciousness. “From what I overheard, you know the tale’s ending. This is the beginning.”

There was a simplicity to Ardyn’s tale despite the fanciful language he used to tell it. A kindly healer chosen to be a king as a reward for his good deeds who then lost his crown when the disease he fought to purge from others overtook him. It was the name of that healer that shook them.

Ignis considered himself well versed in Lucian history. He could recite the names of all one hundred fourteen kings in order, list their chosen weapons and what each had contributed to Insomnia’s construction. He’d never once heard the name Ardyn Lucis Caelum in his studies. According to the name’s source, that was highly intentional. The Founder King, his own brother, had sealed Ardyn away and erased his name from history, all in anticipation of the day when another Lucis Caelum would arise to kill him once and for all.

There was too much bitterness in Ardyn’s voice for it to be a complete lie. Tinted to offer more sympathy to his plight to be sure, but it explained a great deal by being the truth. His grudge against Noctis was misplaced rage against his brother. Ravus had questioned how the Nifs had learned enough about the royal magic to find a way to shut it down. Well, they’d had their own Lucis Caelum to examine. His ability to appear and disappear at will was likely a fusion of Noct’s warping with the daemonic powers Ardyn had acquired through the Scourge’s total infection of his body.

So Ardyn’s story appeared truthful. The bottom line, though, was that Ignis didn’t give a shit. “You would hold Noctis accountable for the sins of his ancestors committed two millenia ago and then play the victim?”

“I play the role the gods have given me,” Ardyn said, anger creeping into his usual false joviality. “They set this stage, appointed me their villain and anointed Noctis as their hero. I have only done as ordained. And I’ll continue my compliant behavior, all the way to the most bitter of ends. Then, I’ll have to take all this chosen one business and shove it down Bahamut’s throat until he chokes.”

That was the same goal Ignis had in mind, albeit with a vastly different outcome, he figured. Noctis, not caring about prophecies and destinies, just wanted to end it here. He moved towards Ardyn with his right hand extended and ready for a weapon from his armiger, but promptly stepped back.

“Specs, the Crystal-”

There was a panic in his voice that Ignis didn’t understand until Noctis reached back and grabbed Ignis’s arm and he could feel the both of them being dragged forward. Ignis dug in and could tell Noctis was doing the same. It did no good. Their feet were sliding across the floor as if it were ice instead of metal grating. They were being pulled towards the Crystal.

“What the hell?” Ignis shouted.

The devil, naturally, answered. “I’m afraid Noctis has some preparations to do for our grand fated final encounter. As he is now, he might best me once or twice, but he lacks the power to truly kill me.”

Noctis was at the Crystal. Bracing against its surface did nothing. His hand disappeared into the light. Without some drastic measure, the rest of him would soon follow.

Of all his fears, of all the imagined solutions to the mystery of the Crystal, Ignis had never dreamed the cursed thing would consume Noctis. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Noctis and holding on with everything he had.

“Specs...Ignis…” The panic was still there but there was something else in Noct’s voice. “I don’t think anybody can stop this. I don’t want you getting hurt trying.”

“He’s right,” Ardyn said. He’d come to stand beside Ignis like a bystander gawking at an accident. “The King of Light must absorb the Crystal’s power and to do that, the Crystal has to absorb him first.”

“Give me the Ring, Noct,” Ignis begged. “I have to try-”

“That stunt again? You think the Lucii will aid you in stopping the fulfillment of their whole purpose?”

Ignis ignored Ardyn. He had to focus on Noct. He shouted at him to try warping, to try striking the Crystal with a weapon, to try the bloody Ring himself. Noctis only shook his head.

“Let go, Ignis.”

“I can’t.”

But Noctis could. With his free arm, he pushed off against Ignis hard. That force along with the pull of the Crystal wrenched him loose of Ignis’s grasp and sent him deeper in. He was more than halfway in now and out of Ignis’s reach.

“It’s okay, Ignis. I’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. Tell everybody-”

Ignis collapsed to the ground. The Crystal had gone dark as the rest of his sight. Why would it shine when it had taken the light away?

He tried to say Noct’s name but only an unintelligible whimper escaped. Ardyn loomed over him, pretending to fret over his distress. “Don’t worry. He’ll have a nice long nap inside the Crystal. Of course, once he’s drained it of every last drop of its power, I will have to kill him and end this Crystal and Ring nonsense for good. There wasn’t any point in killing him sooner, you see, because the gods would call for a do-over and-”

Ignis drove the first dagger his could find in the armiger into Ardyn’s chest. A second, a third, more and more until he was almost out went in before Ardyn finally saw fit to stop him by simply warping a few steps away. “Do you mind?” Ardyn huffed. “This vest is vintage.” 

Fine. The polearms could handle the distance. 

“Such fruitless anger,” Ardyn chided between impacts. He only let Ignis get up to three before shifting away. Ignis couldn’t track where he’d gone until his voice came over his shoulder. “One might think you’re trying to goad me into to striking you down. You’ll get no mercy killing from me and you’re not the loose thread that needs cutting.”

Ignis lashed out with one of Gladio’s broadswords. He wasn’t used to weapons of that heft but his rage gave him the strength for a swing that cut satisfyingly deep into its target. 

“You just don’t listen.” Ardyn wrenched the sword away from him with enough force to send Ignis falling back to the ground. The sword landed next to him in short order with a loud clang. Ignis was too drained from his outburst to pick it up again. He couldn’t even move himself when Ardyn walked by him so closely, the hem of his coat trailed across Ignis’s hand.

“Why do you think I took care to keep you all safe? I will have my triumph witnessed and I can think of no better audience for Noctis’s death and the failure of all Bahamut’s plans than those who fought hardest for them. So do look after yourself. I would hate for you to miss the true finale.”

The cloying kindness sent the tempest churning in his Ignis’s head to grislier speeds. He couldn’t manage another swing with a greatsword but a knife or two remained in the Armiger. Prompto had several light guns in there too. He could...he could literally fire blindly and hope for the absolute best outcome of putting a few holes into Ardyn’s beloved fucking vest while the man continued to mock him. He might as well spit at him.

Ardyn was shot nonetheless. Ignis heard Prompto calling for him over gunfire that didn’t seem to stop. He must have been pulling gun after gun from the Armiger instead of bothering to reload.

Ardyn didn’t care. He muttered, “Oh, good, this saves me a trip,” as he waited for Prompto to be through. 

Ignis stayed where he was. He’d never known Prompto’s aim to falter but this was not a moment to tempt fate. He doubted he could have moved anyway. Gladio was shouting about Noctis and the Crystal and Ignis was too weak to shout back. There was nothing to be said. He’d failed Noctis. He’d let him be taken away. He hadn’t even been a nuisance to Ardyn.

Ravus joined the shouting to get Prompto to stop wasting ammunition; Ardyn wasn’t going down and Ignis was too near the line of fire. Prompto did stop but the telltale clicks of an empty chamber indicated it wasn’t his choice.

“That was rather loud,” Ardyn mused, “and futile.”

Gladio demanded again to know where Noctis was. Ardyn humored him with a tactless delivery of the truth that he and Prompto insisted had to be a lie. Ignis should have told them but he still couldn’t speak. He remained limp and mute on the floor, longing for Ardyn and this whole damned keep to be gone.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to,” Ardyn said.

“Bastard,” Gladio spat. “Why are we wasting time talking to you?”

Between replays of the moment Noctis shoved him away and the white hot fury of needing to tear Ardyn apart, an idle question came to Ignis - _why was Ardyn wasting time talking to them?_. 

To gloat, surely. He’d assembled them as his audience. He was going to perform. But-

_You’re not the loose thread that needs cutting_.

Noctis, for however long, was safe in his crystalline prison. Ardyn was content to leave him there until the Astrals couldn’t start this sickening prophetic mess over again. Another chosen king couldn’t arise without an oracle to rouse the gods for them. And the line of the Oracles…

Had but one scion left. A scion who had just come to Ardyn.

_Oh, good, this saves me a trip._

Desperation granted him the will to scream a warning to Ravus. Ignis couldn’t track what happened next. He heard multiple weapons appear, the sound of a sword coming down upon a shield, a guttural yell and wet thud of another sword against flesh. Other than the yell belonging to Gladio, he couldn’t assign anything else to anyone. Ignis’s fear took up the task of creating a number of the most wretched outcomes in the seconds it took for someone to speak.

It was Gladio, again, and Ignis let himself breathe. “That shot had to have taken his head off.”

“Yeah, but like, where’d he go? You think a decapitated corpse wearing the bargain bin from the thrift store would be hard to miss.”

Their banter was too light for any of the harm Ignis had feared yet he still lacked the will to get up and find out what had occurred. Ravus, thankfully, came to him, kneeling beside him and asking in the gentlest voice Ignis had ever heard him use if he were unharmed.

“I’m fine.” It was an automatic response, given to every inquiry into his well being and it covered everything from actually being all right to needing a potion this second or he was going to pass out from blood loss. It fit over the loss of Noct and his failure in that like a glove.

“Ignis,” Ravus said in that same mild tone.

“I’m fine!” Ignis hadn’t meant to snap but his health wasn’t a priority. Noctis was gone and Ardyn was out there, somewhere. Someone needed to take this situation in hand and that someone was always him. That was familiar. That was useful. It was something he could do. 

First, he demanded to know what had happened with Ardyn.

“A feint,” Ravus explained. “Amicitia moved as if to protect me but pushed Prompto into that position instead. Prompto drew a shield from the Armiger while Amicitia struck. It seems though we may not be able to kill Ardyn, we can drive him away for awhile if he is sufficiently injured. I gather from the numerous perforations in his clothing that you gave us a lead in that.”

“You stabbed him good, Iggy.”

Prompto’s attempts at cheering him were nearly as grating as Ravus’s pity. Ignis could picture Gladio standing somberly over him, finding reasons why this wasn’t Ignis’s fault while assigning blame to himself. That wasn’t going to do.

Ignis sat up, ignoring Ravus’s proferred hand in the process. “We can’t count on Ardyn being gone for long. We can’t remain here.”

“But-” Prompto said.

Ignis knew he was pointing at the Crystal. Knew he was coming up with outlandish notions of dragging Noctis out of it. Knew he’d be optimistic until the end. That wouldn’t do either. “Noct isn’t in any danger inside the Crystal. Ardyn wants him to absorb the damned thing. His immediate goal seems to be ending the bloodline of the Oracle so the faster we leave, the better.”

“Any idea how long it’ll take the asshole show up again?” Gladio asked.

How in all the hells would Ignis know that?

Prompto offered a guess. “We didn’t hear from him between when Noct and Gentiana turned him into shave ice until we got to Zegnautus. That was a couple of days.”

_A couple of days he could have spent picking out a new hat for all we know about how his immortality works_. Why weren’t they listening to him?

Ravus talked over Ignis as well. “Being the current target of his ire, may I suggest a course of action?” He didn’t wait for approval. The High Commander of Niflheim took charge and laid out their plans. Ravus would first get the intelligence he’d promised Aranea and then join Gladio in gathering supplies from the Keep while Prompto was to go to the communications floor and establish contact with Biggs and Wedge. Ideally, the train would be operational as it could carry the most cargo. If not, both men were pilots who could take them out of here in a dropship. And if they could find neither Biggs nor Wedge, Ravus had a basic knowledge of dropship operations.

It wasn’t that much unlike what Ignis would have suggested himself. There was just a key point missing. “And what am I to do?” Ignis asked, ready to dislike the answer.

“We eliminated many daemons on the route here but the Keep remains dangerous. You should stay with whomever has the safest task. You’ll come with me to my office.”

The instructions grated, as predicted. Neither Gladio nor Prompto had a problem with them. Other than adding that Prompto should keep an eye on everyone once he got to the comm room, Gladio accepted his task and the two took off. They were probably eager for work that would keep their minds off of Noctis. Ignis knew he was.

Yet he was being led like a child with nothing to do but think. They retraced the steps he’d taken mere minutes ago with Noctis. The catwalks felt far longer, the elevator ride down comprised of many more floors. He’d really spent his last few moments talking about a childish elevator game. He really had let Noct go after nothing but a shove.

Ravus even directed him where to stand once they got to his office. “The cameras only cover the entrance and the desk. Here, by the window, you should have your privacy.”

“What do you think I’m going to do that I don’t want Prompto to see?”

“Ignis…” There it was again, that soft, coddling tone. “I know how important it is for you to maintain your composure, even amongst your friends. I know you think it’s your duty to care for them before you care for yourself-”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“And we both know that’s a lie. How could it not be? Noctis has been taken but you can hardly hope for a swift return when you know the fate that awaits him when he does.”

“Thank you, I needed more salt rubbed into my wound,” Ignis snarled back. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

“I am trying to help. Failing, obviously, but after all you’ve done...I thought to return the favor.”

“I don’t need help.” It wasn’t so far from a decree of feeling nothing. Ignis had been too kind to call that declaration from Ravus for the bullshit it had been and too worried it would have enraged him further during a fight that had taken all the skill he’d had for Ignis to keep up. But this wasn’t a duel. This wasn’t Altissia. And after everything they’d been through, Ignis and Ravus weren’t quite the same people they’d been then either.

_No, I’ve flipped the script, haven’t I_? Ravus, the solicitous, and Ignis, a jangle of anger and defeat.

“I can’t-” Ignis started. He turned his skills of persuasion towards himself in a desperate effort to keep that defeat from overwhelming him. “I need to be strong or Gladio and Prompto will...”

“Or they will what? Share in your burden as you have shared in theirs?”

Ignis couldn’t do it. This burden was too great. They didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve it. No one did.

“Ignis, you have to know they would readily commiserate with you.”

They would. All he need do was tell them and that was all he couldn’t do. “No! You said it yourself! How can I tell them that when Noct comes back, it’ll only be to die?”

That childish feeling rose again, the sense that speaking it aloud was part of the curse and the more he spoke about it, the more he damned it to be true. There was no logic to be found in it, yet what logic was there to be found in any of this? They were trapped in a dark fairy tale of fate, ancient evils and the useless gods that demanded humans clean up their messes. A phobia of vocalizing his fear fit in perfectly well, right alongside a deluded notion that he and Ravus just needed to find the right book with the right magic words to make it all go away and change it to a happy ending.

“I failed him,” Ignis whispered.

“He still lives. There is time.”

“To do what? Two thousand years this has been building to a conclusion the Astrals are rooting for. They don’t want me to foil it. Noctis didn’t want it either. He knew what you’d told him meant and he went into the Crystal willingly. He knew and it didn’t stop him!”

“As Lunafreya knew what the covenants would cost her,” Ravus answered, a crack of sorrow forming in the calmness he’d been trying to project. “I cannot say when or if you will be able to stop according blame to yourself. I know I have as yet not found the manner in which to do so. I only ask you to refrain from giving up hope.”

“Hope?” The thought of it began to wear at him. Ignis had a sudden appreciation for the anger Ravus had worked so hard to cultivate and maintain throughout the years. It could keep so much else at bay. “Where am I supposed to find that?”

Ravus moved in close beside him and put his right hand on Ignis’s shoulder - a gesture of comfort and proof of the bond he was about to speak of. “I found mine in you.” 

Ignis’s instinct had been to recoil, to object that he had anything resembling hope to offer. But Ravus continued.

“When I found Lunafreya at the altar...I felt the world collapsing around me. Nothing was right. Nothing was fair. All that I had done, I couldn’t save her. All that she had sacrificed already and the gods still demanded her life. Seeing her lie so still, that smile on her face because Noctis was safe beside her...I lost myself. I want to say that I truly would not have killed him or you, that I would have regained my sense on my own before it was too late, but I cannot.

“Noctis was not the only man you saved that day.”

Ignis felt his anger begin to fall away, the wall it had formed to brace him chipping into pieces and leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

“I didn’t save him today!” Ignis cried.

“Perhaps what happened today was so that you could save him later. The Crystal and the Ring spent millenia absorbing the power of the Lucian kings. I doubt conferring that power back to Noctis will be a quick process. We’ve time to learn more about the prophecy. We’ve time to learn more about Ardyn. We’ve time to allow yourself to grieve.”

Noctis wasn’t dead but he may as well be. Gone where Ignis couldn’t follow. Returning to a fate Ignis had no idea how to thwart yet it was entirely on his shoulders to do so.

Ignis reached up to put his own hand over the one on his shoulder. “I...I can’t.”

_I can’t let go. I can’t save Noct. I can’t…_ ”

“Allow yourself this today. I know the demands you’ll place upon yourself on the morrow. Pain denied is not pain erased nor is pain redirected released. I know from my own mistakes. I do not wish for you to repeat them.”

_But too much released_ , Ignis thought, _will drown me_. He could feel it welling up from within. He tried summoning the anger to tamp it back but it was all so futile. A fight waged every moment of every day, it would consume him.

So he set the torrent free. Noct’s last words, Ardyn’s gloating, the decree of a dispassionate god all joined together in a cacophony that surged over him. All he had to keep from being swept away was the grip of one hand on another. It wasn’t enough.

Ignis fell forward into Ravus and buried his face, already slick with tears, into his chest. Needing an anchor against the morass of his unleashed grief, his arms wrapped around Ravus’s waist and gripped tightly.

And then he felt the grip returned. Ravus’s magitek arm pressed him closer while his human hand went to the back of Ignis’s head. Ignis sobbed while Ravus said nothing, the slow, tender caresses of his fingers through Ignis’s hair speaking for him.


End file.
